


Behind Those Eyes

by ActTwoAlly



Series: Eyes|Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anti-Genevieve, Anxiety, Bottom Jared, Brooklyn, D/s undertones, District Attorneys, Evil characters - Freeform, Evil genevieve, Gang Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Law Enforcement, M/M, Mafia References, Misunderstood characters, New York City, Pet Names, Plotty, Protective Jared Padalecki, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rough Sex, Slight Politics but Nothing Polarizing, Top Jensen, criminal justice system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:33:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 49,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22590277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActTwoAlly/pseuds/ActTwoAlly
Summary: Jared and Jensen have been married for six years and they’ve been living in Brooklyn, NYC just as long. Jared is a highly decorated detective and Jensen is a quickly rising ADA within the District Attorney’s office. Both men try not to let the baggage of work weigh them down, but what happens when the baggage follows you home?This is also anti-Genevieve because I don’t like her. If that bothers you, please don’t read this because it will only upset you. 💞—Per the usual AO3 disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and all opinions are my own.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles & Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: Eyes|Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666036
Comments: 23
Kudos: 552





	1. Life in Brooklyn

Jensen Ackles trudged up the brick steps to their prewar building. When he and his husband, Jared Padalecki-Ackles, decided to move to New York City, they agreed that Bay Ridge, a quaint part of Brooklyn, was the right fit. It was the perfect mix of fast paced and laid back, conservative and liberal, urban and suburban. There were actually trees, parks, and views of the water. It also helped that the 68th Precinct of the NYPD was one of the best in the city. Captain Morgan had practically begged Jared to work with his detective squad from the first interview. Another bonus was that for all the glitz and glam that went along with the Manhattan District Attorney’s Office, Jensen much preferred the caseload at Kings County in Brooklyn. It was the third largest agency in the country behind LA and Chicago and, frankly, he welcomed the challenge. For two Texas boys, they decided to try their luck at that whole, “If I can make it there....” thing. So here they were. 

They’d been in their top floor walk-up apartment ever since the move six years prior. The lack of an elevator had been a point of contention between the two men: Jensen, older by a mere four months, complaining that all the stairs hurt his knees; Jared, always quick with innuendo saying, “Baby, that is not why your knees always hurt.” That earned a slap to Jared’s ass, which, OK, Jensen could admit benefited from the six flights of stairs.

Now if only Jensen could navigate the pizza in one arm, his messenger bag filled with a monster case file across his other side, his keys, and the finicky gate while balancing on the snow-covered stairs (so many goddamn stairs), he’d be happy.

It was Friday. He liked Fridays. Fridays meant he didn’t have to ride to crime scenes, he didn’t have to prep for court, and he didn’t have to wear a suit. Jared thought that was a crime—a pun he loved to make all too frequently—but Jensen was much more comfortable in jeans and a tshirt, preferably one of his husband’s.

Finally, the gate opened up with the telltale beeping informing everyone on the first floor that it was open. “One bonus of living 144 steps away from the goddamn gate,” Jensen griped under his breath. Making sure the gate latched behind him, he turned and wrinkled his nose when he smelled stale cigarettes. He used to smoke, hadn’t in years, and rather than crave one when he smelled the acidic vapors, he gagged and cursed his youthful idiocy.

He checked the mailbox, another key to wrangle, and saw the usual. ConEd, Verizon, rent invoice, Papa John’s coupons, and a dead cockroach. “Another perk of being high above the garbage chute.” So maybe the walk-up wasn’t too terrible.

Opening the rent invoice to make sure they weren’t charged for the service call for their fire escape, Jensen almost walked right into another person either coming or going. One was never quite sure since everyone always had that chaotic New York energy about them.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” a tiny brunette said with a hint of a valley girl accent and a slight lisp. That probably has something to do with the botched lip job, Jensen thought to himself.

“You didn’t. Just not paying attention. You new to the building?”

“Oh! Yeah! I’m Jennif….wait, I’m Genevieve. Cortese. Nice to meet you.”

“Forgot your own name there for a sec,” Jensen laughed awkwardly. Brooklyn could be weird. It attracted weird. It thrived on weird. This should’ve been normal because it was weird. But there was….something. She opened her mouth to try and salvage what was left of her introduction as Jensen glanced back to make sure their mail slot was closed. He deserved an Olympic medal for how he was able to balance everything in his arms. He adjusted his bag and kept listening. 

“Ugh, I know. I keep messing up. My real name is Jennifer but that’s, like, so basic, right? And I’m in “The Big City” now so I wanted to kind of like, upgrade my name.”

Jensen blinked at her. Unsure of what to process first. The air quotes around big city, the delusion that a 5’ something brunette was going to stick out in the aforementioned big city, or the unsettling look he couldn’t quite place behind her big black eyes. One eye was kind of lazy, but then again, the fluorescent lighting in the hall wasn’t flattering to anyone. Even Jared said so and he never had anything unkind to say.

“OK, well….welcome to the building Jen….er Gen, heh; I guess either works,” he continued as if he hadn’t trailed off in his own thoughts.

“Thanks;” the lisp made it sound a little snakelike, which only added to the fog of disquietude. He really just wanted to get upstairs, kiss Jared, and eat their pizza. He nodded and turned before he made to drag himself up the interminable staircase when, “I didn’t catch your name!”

“Jensen. Should be easy to remember since they’re kind of similar. Jen-Gen-Jensen.” Or at least easier than remembering your own name, he thought. God, he needed to be home.

“Nice to meetcha. See ya around, I guess!” She adjusted her ill-fitting leather jacket and sashayed away in a manner which reminded Jensen of those lizards that run on water. God, he was fucking tired.

He forced a smile and, for once, was eager to begin his ascent. She was weird. He should be used to weird. But she was a weird kind of weird and he didn’t think he wanted to get used to it.

——

“I know, Ma. Yes, but believe it or not an NYPD Captain doesn’t follow Texas Mama’s orders. Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am. I have been cutting back the overtime, though. Ask Jen! Hi baby!”

Jensen, familiar with conversational Jared, just accepted his greeting that was no doubt part of yet another argument about his long hours at the 68.

“Whose?” Jensen mouthed already having heard that it was, in fact, a Mama on the phone. Six years of marriage and 15 years of friendship and they still hadn’t come up with differentiated names for ‘Mama A’ and ‘Mama B.’ 

“B,” Jared answered back, eliciting the ire that always followed on the other end.

“For God's Sakes, Jared; just because you boys both had a cold when you decided to dub us A and P, causing the P to come out as B, does not mean I will answer to it.”

Mama Padalecki, then.

“Well, Mama...you kinda are answering to it,” Jared smirked in that impish way only a mama’s boy could. Their conversation wrapped up shortly thereafter with Mama Padalecki getting the final word, as she always did, and Jared replying back, “Love you right back, Mama,” like he always did.

And then Jensen kissed his husband hello; like they always did.

—

“I’m telling you, the R is getting more and more unreliable. The renovations to the new station were supposed to help it run more efficiently! Yet we’re still stopping every three goddamn blocks and people still don’t understand to let people out before in and the MTA still is a circle of hell all its own,” Jensen ended his rant with a pull of his beer bottle. He dramatically sighed, which, after the length with which he lamented public transportation, maybe wasn’t all that dramatic.

“You do realize that you’re one of literally 8 million people who rely on a system that was built for a city of 1 million, right?” Jared, always with the logic. 

“Yes, dear. I do realize that. It was just a long week and I miss being able to just jump in the car, roll the windows down and cruise down the freeway to shake off the day, which sounds like I’m about to break out into song, but I ain’t,” Jensen continued the rant that apparently hadn’t concluded when his mouth stopped moving.

Jared stretched his hand out and massaged a knot he knew would be in Jensen’s shoulder joint. An old baseball injury. “You haven’t talked about Texas like that in a while. What’s up?”

Jensen would deny it, but he purred as Jared worked through the knot; partially from bliss at the pain ebbing away and partially out of the familiarity between them. It never got stale, unlike the pizza if the leftovers weren’t put away. Begrudgingly, he stood and stretched out his back and shoulders; popping everything back into place shouldn’t sound like a Rice Krispie Treat, but maybe that’s what 30 was. He yanked his tie he rest of the way free from where he’d loosened it when he got home and threw it in the general vicinity of their foyer.

Foyer was maybe too fancy of a word; but that’s the purpose it served. Their apartment was a decent size for what they paid for it. One thousand square feet, 12’ ceilings, parquet floors that were always shining thanks to Jensen’s obsession and borderline love affair with their Swiffer. Their living room/kitchen/dining room (it was still New York City after all) had two windows and a less than spectacular view of the brick facade of the next apartment building. But the lack of scenery in the “Great Room”, as they’d taken to calling it, was made up by that from the bedroom. Because they were on the top floor, not that they’d call it a penthouse, they had a miniature veranda. There were no fancy glass doors or chiffon curtains billowing to the outside world; there was a window in a little alcove that served as their entrance and exit. 

They’d spend their nights, depending on the weather of course, sitting in their cheap dollar store folding chairs in the familiar silence that comes with decades of love. 

Their salaries would certainly cover an upgrade if and when they decided to move, but for now it was home and it suited them just fine. They had been discussing plans to buy a place rather than continuing to rent, but that was going to take some serious financial planning and one helluva bonus from either of their two jobs as civil servants. Unlikely.

After the pizza was put away and the Great Room swept up and cleaned to Jensen’s approval, the two men threw on some old Yankees Classics game but moreso for the background noise over their conversation. 

“I miss it sometimes, you know I do.”

Jensen was talking about Austin, of course; but he was also thinking about an opportunity that had presented itself. An opportunity he hadn’t yet known how to broach with Jared. It had been a really long, really complicated week.

“I miss Texas, too. Why don’t we plan a little trip down there; we’ve got a long weekend coming up don't we? President's Day or whatever we're calling it these days...we could make an extended weekend out of it,” Jared suggested.

Jensen hummed in agreement and when Jared looked over, he could see his husband’s eyelashes kissing the freckles on his defined cheekbones where they fanned out in exhaustion. Jared snorted fondly and went through his typical “walk through” of the apartment to make sure it was secured before bed. It took him all of two minutes before, “All right, Counselor, I’m fixin’ to lose the clothes and get a little uncomfortable in bed, if you’re up for it.”

“You really do make the worst puns,” Jensen mumbled out as he claimed Jared’s mouth in a hot kiss. 

TBC


	2. The Ackles Boys (NC17 Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning sex because everyone deserves morning sex.

They woke up tangled in the evidence of two men who were comfortable enough, and OK maybe too exhausted, to have fallen asleep without cleaning up from the night before. That, however, was not the reason Jared blinked his cat eyes awake and wiped a hand down his sweat-soaked face. _Fuck. “We forgot to crack the side window,” he bemoaned silently._ He tried, unsuccessfully, to disentangle his limbs from the nest of blankets and sheets and his husband's limbs. He caught himself on the reading chair before he hit the ground ass first, but not quickly enough that Jensen didn't put things together. 

"That's what you get for seducing me when I was only half awake. My processing and faculties were faulty, hence the closed window, hence the sauna like temperature in here, hence you falling on your ass," Jensen grumbled from where his face was nestled in his elbow. 

"Jen, I assure you your faculties and whatever else you said were just fine. My ass reminded me before I even fell and now that the merchandise got jostled, it's an even bigger reminder. Also, on what planet is it normal to use the word hence three times before 8 a.m. on a Saturday? Psycho," he added that last question under his breath. He stood back up and made his way over to the window where they had nicked a notch in the metal at the perfect "crack line", which made Jared cackle like a child when Jensen dubbed it as such. Within minutes, the room had cooled off but it wasn't anywhere near comfortable. _“One of these days the lack of a thermostat in these units is going to kill someone. I should have Jen look into a HUD complaint. Except this isn't NYCHA so we probably don't qualify, but he could look anyway, wait, he's quiet...did that asshole fall back asleep?” Jared’s inner narration was apparently wide awake this morning._ He turned around ready to throw a pillow at his undoubtedly sleeping husband, but was caught by surprise when he was not only awake but willingly out of bed and looked to be inspecting Jared's work. Arms crossed over his broad chest, wedding ring glinting in the sunlight peeking through the snowy rooftops, hair sleep mussed, and yeah a little sweaty. 

"I _have_ negotiated a crack line once or twice, Jensen. You don't need to watch the extremely high tech process by which a window is opened." He knew very well that he said ‘a’ instead of ‘the.’ Because, yeah, as Jensen often said, he could be an overgrown child. /p>

Softly laughing in acknowledgment of his husband’s immature wit, he replied, "Not at all what I was looking at, baby. All these years, and you'd think I'd be used to the way your hole is all puffy and glistening the next morning. Every time you bend over, I feel like I could just slide right back in, especially since you came like a freight train and promptly passed out," Jensen had started to walk towards Jared, one arm still crossed, the other rubbing his lips as if he were deep in thought.

"You weren't far behind, Counselor. If I remember correctly, the last thing you were coherent enough to growl out was, 'Jesus fuck your ass was made for my cock,' before smacking my side and holding on while you ground so deep you about came out my mouth."

"You weren't complaining," Jensen whispered, this time gripping Jared's jaw with one hand and his teasing his hole with his ring finger. After the first time Jensen had tried that, Jared freaked out thinking his ring was going to get lost in his body and they'd be mortified at the ER, where two of their friends worked. Then Jensen had just smirked and crooked his finger. _But God the man knew how to fuck_. 

"Never complain when I'm with you,” Jared whispered out between kisses.

"Get your fucked out ass on the bed, baby. We're already gross and you're already slippery, it'd be a waste not to just go at it."

"So romantic, Jen. Really," but Jared was already making his way onto his back, legs dangling off the edges. He brought up one foot to the edge and starting teasing at his own hole, "Fuck, baby you weren't kidding. How much come did you slick me up with last night? Feel like you could just grind right on through and pick up where you left off. Think you could get deeper? I think you could. If you just pinned my hips here and I squeezed my legs around your hips super tight. Let's try it baby." Jared's penchant for dirty talk was one of Jensen's favorite things about when they made love. That and the mind-blowing orgasms, but that mouth...Jesus fuck. 

Jensen knelt down while Jared was still babbling about how he wanted to be ravaged and shoved his tongue into the winking hole before Jared knew what to expect. Jensen loved eating this deepest part of his husband, especially when he was already open. It just made it that much more intimate. He stabbed into Jared and then relaxed his tongue, using his lips to soothe any tenderness. Withdrawing his tongue, he gave Jared the sweetest little licks which reduced him to a mewling quiver of limbs. He reached one hand up and begin to jack Jared's steadily filling cock. He didn't need to look to know that it was already reddish purple and that the veins were protruding with the anticipation of what was to come. He continued to fondle Jared in one hand and use his other to manipulate the hole in front of him this way and that. They'd played rough enough in the past that Jensen knew he could skip the foreplay and just drive home and give his husband the ride of his life, but he was just as much a slut for the games as his boy was. 

Jensen was so lost in his ministrations that it took Jared actually swatting his hand away from his dick to get his attention. "Jensen, I swear to God I am not going to break if you just plow into me right the fuck now. In fact, if you don't get to it, I'm going to climb down off this bed and right onto that beautiful dick of yours and just take what I need."

"Damn, baby. That sounds a little aggressive, need some help?" Jensen was just drawing out the teasing at this point.

Jared sat up in bed as best he could with one finger still in his ass, his legs shaking, and his dick bobbing in the way of any productive movement. He shot the mother of all bitch faces down to his husband's features, which prompted a bite to his ass cheek before Jensen finally stood at attention and ready to work.

"Hold your knees wide open, baby. Let me see that work of art, that fucking beautifully ruined center, goddamn lemme see it. Can never see it enough," Jensen husked out as he jacked his own dick. Jared obliged arching his back in a downright pornographic shape and opening his candy pink lips into an O that matched what was between his legs.

Jensen squirted some lube generously into his hand and slicked himself up. He took the bottle and aimed it right over Jared's knot and squirted a heavy helping, knowing full well that it made Jared feel like he was being used, which he absolutely loved. Jared was shaking with the effort to hold his position and Jensen was shaking with the anticipation of being enveloped by that scorching heat once more. "I'm gonna fuck you inside out, baby." And Jensen dove in. No preamble, no inching his way in, no patience, just balls slapped right against taint and grinding there. "This deep enough, baby?" Jensen licked into Jared's ear.

"De--oh---deeper. Deeper baby, I can take it, Jes _us_ ," Jared was already reduced to incoherency. That didn't bode well for their lasting time, but it certainly meant he was doing something right.

While still fully sheathed, Jensen hooked his arms underneath Jared's shoulders, dug deep one little bit for some leverage and fucked his husband up the mattress so he could pound into him from his knees. Jared's eyes were pinched shut, but not in pain, and his mouth was in a silent scream of pleasure. He took one of his hands and removed it from his shoulder and kissed Jensen's hand before settling his palm over his windpipe. 

"Fucking ride me," Jared rasped out. Bangs pasted to his forehead, their hands joined around his neck, Jensen deeper than he could remember ever being. 

The first time they entertained the power move of holding Jared down by his neck, Jensen was wary. Not that he’d hurt him, he never would, but because of that damn necklace. Jared was a faithful man in more than one way and he wore the cross like he wore his heart on his sleeve. 

Jensen had since gotten over the initial feel of sacrilege when Jared had forced his hand tighter and rasped out to his husband through sweat-soaked bangs. “Sjust a necklace, baby. Just another part of me. Now, get to work.” Jensen didn’t even register the necklace anymore because it was, as his husband said, just another part of him.

"That what you want? To be fucking rode like a horse? To be bred like a fucking slut?" Jensen ground out in between hip circles.

"This ass is yours, do whatever you want," Jared whispered, voice wrecked. That was all Jensen needed to hear. After that the only sounds were embarrassing slaps of skin, panting, groans, and when they achieved their orgasms at the same time, a beautifully synchronized whimpering moan of nirvana.

"Jesus Christ, I think you broke me," Jared giggled. It always amazed Jensen that he could go from downright slutty to giggling innocence. 

"Yeah, well right back atcha babe. Goddamn my knees are going to be killing me."

"Remember that next time you decide to go all caveman on my ass."

"Love you."

"Love you most."

——

"Ackles," Jared answered his phone with a practiced ease that belied his irritation at being called on his work phone on a Saturday morning. Jensen was walking into the bedroom after having taken his shower because to quote his husband, "Jay, if we shower together, I might actually lose all proper brain function and blood flow for the remainder of the weekend and we have too much shit to do for that to happen." Practical bastard.

Jensen tried to hide the proud smile that always crept up on the side of his face when he heard Jared refer to himself strictly by his married name; a pillow socking him in the face told him that he failed at trying to hide the smile. He shrugged innocently and blew Jared an overexaggerated kiss which, in turn, earned him an overexaggerated eyeroll. 

"Right down the street in Owl's Head? That's not even Last Prayer's territory! They stick to Red Hook, East New York, and Brownsville for Christ's sake. What the fuck brought them to Bay Ridge?!"

Jensen's ears piqued up at the name of the gang: Last Prayer. He tried not to eavesdrop, tried not to interfere, and tried not to overstep where his profession and Jared's were concerned, but sometimes--like now--he couldn't help it. The week had been crazy and only intensified when he was handed a conviction review of an alleged member of LP. Of course, the perp claimed he wasn't even a member of the gang, and insisted that he had been set up for the whole thing. ‘The thing’ itself being a ring of fatal drug deals throughout the city, not just Brooklyn, that resulted in 87 overdoses, all of which pointed directly to Giusseppe Inglioterra aka Joey the Brit. Stupid name. Jensen himself had tried the case before he was on the CRU. All the evidence pointed to Inglioterra and Jensen was convinced without a shadow of a doubt of the man's conviction. Which is why he was completely blindsided when it came across his desk yesterday morning as a submission for the CRU. The new DA, eager to show off his new position having won the election in a tight race, wrangled in all his best minds and Jensen was torn as to whether he was on the team as a, "Best mind," or, “The Prosecutor Who Fucked Up." 

"Yeah, I can come down," Jared huffed out while scrubbing a hand through his still-damp hair. "Gimme like 20 minutes or so and then I should be at the house. My cruiser is there anyway." Jensen watched as Jared started to unsuccessfully shimmy himself into his "off duty" jeans while still remaining engaged on the phone. He'd laugh if he weren't just as confused about the crime, which he didn't even know the nature of yet, being so close to home. Like, ten blocks close to home. Their neighborhood was safe. Major crimes didn't happen in Bay Ridge. Until now, apparently. 

"No, you know Jensen isn't awake before noon on Saturdays, I'll just leave him a little note and a, 'Honey Do' list." This time, Jared ate the pillow that was thrown his way. "Chad says hi," he mouthed. Jensen rolled his eyes. 

"OK so I have to head down to the precinct and then the park, which I know you overheard and I'm very impressed with the practiced nonchalance and controlled apathy you've exhibited, but go ahead and ask and I'll answer what I can," Jared said in that no-nonsense tone that said he had switched into Detective Ackles mode. 

"All right. What happened?" 

"Girl. 19. Murdered on the jogging path through Owl's Head. Same MO as LP's not at all ironic mutilation of nailing her hands together in prayer, a crown of thorns pierced into her forehead, and a bullet straight through the third eye," he said, mouth drawing into a grim line. Subconsciously he massaged the cross around his neck while discussing the sacrilegious mutilation. 

"Jesus," Jensen breathed, then quickly, before Jared could make an ill-timed comment, "Sorry." 

Jared must have noticed that something was off with Jensen's stance, something Jensen didn't even notice himself until his husband used his detective skills on him. Jensen hated how good Jared was at his job, sometimes. Slowly, Jared sat on the edge of the bed under the guise of lacing up his boots but really just to seem less, "Interrogatory," as Jensen called it. 

"What's up? Your one eyebrow is quirked: like you've got that Harry Potter pain behind it, not the, 'My husband is a jackass,' eyebrow. You keep rubbing your thumb and forefinger together, which you only do when you’re so stressed out that your muscle memory craves a cigarette even though you don’t. And you keep sighing as if you want to say something but don't know how, which is the funniest fucking thing in the world considering how you make a living. Spill." 

"I had an LP case come across my desk yesterday. A conviction review. Remember that guy Giusseppe Inglioterra?" 

"Yeah, name's a fucking mouthful. Didn't he have a street name that was awful but easier to say than that?" 

"Joe the Brit, yeah. Hysterical because his name is neither Joe nor is he British, but I gue--" 

Jensen was interrupted. "Not the point, baby," Jared chimed in. Sorry, Detective Ackles said.

“Anyway, “Joe” apparently has built enough evidence with his Legal Aid defense team to warrant an investigation into his trial and the result. Therefore, they’re reopening the investigation into me and how I may have destroyed a man’s life for something he didn’t do. He’s been in Rikers for three years. Three fucking years. You’ve visited perps in Rikers, you can’t be there longer than an hour without losing part of your humanity. I’m not saying you you, I mean people in general. Remember Diane Sawyer, the fucking bastion of journalism, did that expose on Rikers years ago? She was rattled. And because of me, he’s been there for three years, Jared,” Jensen took a breath. He was about to have a panic attack, Jared knew this, Jensen knew this. 

“You’re spiraling. Sit next to me.”

Jensen did.

“Breathe with me, in and out. You’re OK.” Jensen’s breath returned to normal and he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Jared’s strong shoulder. “You’ve got a whole lot of shit to work through between here and, ‘Holy shit we fucked up.’ And I don’t mean you you,” he parrotted Jensen’s words earning a snort; good, that was the goal. “But I do mean we fucked up. Because if a mistake was made in his conviction, that means, sure, maybe you made one bad call, but your bureau signed off on it, the DA signed off on it, the jury decided, hell the detectives you worked with provided you with the information to make the decision. Besides, how many times do you hear these stories come out of Rikers? I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me. It was another guy. I was framed,” Jared continued. “Our system isn’t perfect, and we make mistakes, but we make the best decision with what we’ve got. Between your office and the NYPD, there’s only about 45,000 law enforcement officials in this city. That’s like 200 New Yorkers per lawman.”

“That was fast math,” Jensen replied slowly coming out of his anxiety fog.

“I’m good at math,” Jared winked.

“All right, you’re right. It just frazzled me because I was trying not to think about the case until I got with the bureau on Monday and we had everything lain out in front of us,” Jensen replied.

“That’s why you brought home the case file, right?” Jared was openly laughing now.

“Oh, fuck you, 30 hours of overtime a week,” his husband jibed right back playfully punching him in the shoulder.

“You need to stop conspiring with Mama B, I’m feeling victimized.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re abused. Go off and be Captain America, the wunderkind from Brooklyn and all that,” Jensen dismissed him with an airy wave of his hand.

“Yep, I’m out. But there is the matter of the ‘Honey Do’ list…”

Jared dodged the pillow that time.

TBC


	3. Detective Ackles

Chad Michael Murray had been partnered with Jared as soon as the latter had arrived in New York. Apparently Chad’s loud personality made him a difficult character to match and they lucked out with Jared’s attitude of, “So long as you’re not an asshole, we’re good.”

Jared pulled up to Owl’s Head Park and killed the ignition, keeping his lights on. Owl’s Head was usually a really peaceful area right by the Narrows, not the Hudson like some tourists insisted. He and Jensen would go for runs through the park and down by the bridge, from which you could see the famed skyline. It never got old for them. The running path looked a little different today.

CSU was already there flagging the area to mark it as an active crime scene, but that didn’t mean people weren’t trying to peek through the bodies to get a glimpse of what was going on. Fucking masochists, Jared thought. He locked eyes with his partner where he was crouched down next to the victim and steeled himself for the rundown. That part never got easier. Especially with a young victim.

“Female, 19 according to her license, California ID names her as a Gianna Castiglione from Palo Alto, GSW between the eyes so at least it was quick, unless the monsters did the whole crucifixion thing while she was still alive.”

Jared crossed himself and said a brief prayer before crouching down himself to see the poor girl. Chad had long since given up the mock shock at Jared outwardly expressing religion. Jared’s one and only retort of, “It helps me sleep better at night and in this line of work, I need it,” had shut his partner up. No one else questioned it because, well, he was 6’5” of muscle and a gun.

“OK so aside from the MO, what makes us think LP? This is way out of their neighborhood and they’ve been relatively quiet for the past few months. Why now? Why here? Why her?”

“All excellent questions,” Captain Morgan arrived on the scene. “‘Preciate you coming down on your day off, Jared. I know this probably wasn’t on your list of things to do today.”<

“It’s my job,” he said with a shrug. “‘Sides, if it got me out of laundromat and Key Food duty, I take it as a win,” Jared joked.

“That boy of yours is gonna question whether anything really went down just to get you out of husbandly husbanding,” Morgan said as Chad just snorted into his coffee.

Jared had to bite back the retort that Jensen knew exactly what was going on and that he had his own questions waiting for him when he went back to work. They kept each other’s confidences. Law and order worked hand in hand, but they had different protocols, protocols that saved lives and the integrity, what remained of it, of the system. 

“Yeah well, he understands the civil service gig, and he’s way too OCD to leave me in charge of the groceries or separating our precious whites from darks anyway. We all win, except Miss Castiglione here. It’s a day of mouthfuls,” he meant to say that last part under his breath but when he was asked what he meant, he realized it came out louder than intended. “Oh, you don’t want to know,” Jared hoped using a euphemism would deter them for asking further questions. It worked.

“Anyway. The ME estimates that she’s been here since about 0300 going by body temperature. We’re working on getting the security cam footage but the lighting here sucks so not much hope. The two women who called it in are over there if you want to question them; they seem pretty frazzled, but maybe you can charm them with that good ole Texan thing,” Morgan suggested.

Jared meandered over to where two women, probably mid 20s, give or take a few years, were huddled together. Shock or freezing temperatures, maybe both. “Hi ladies, I understand you’ve had a bit of a scare this morning, but thank you for calling 911. I’m Detective Ackles here with the 68. I just need to get a statement from you and some contact information then you’re free to go.”

“Contact information?! What if the killer finds us!?”

Jared was used to this reaction. “It stays strictly within my police report and it’s only in case we need to ask you any follow up questions. I promise it’s completely safe.”

They shared a glance and seemed to loosen up a bit.

“So why don’t we start with your mornings and how you ended up here,” Jared didn’t mean it to come out accusatory and he cursed himself for possibly sending them back onto the edge. The one who hadn’t spoken yet, dark eyes was really all he could tell given how bundled up they were, unlooped her scarf to reveal a pretty face, maybe a little moody but, hey, murder. 

“That sounds like something you’d ask suspects, not witnesses, but since we’ve got nothing to hide, I’ll just chalk it up to that NYPD brass we’ve heard so much about.”

An accent. Definitely new to the city, but that jargon seemed a bit too rehearsed for anyone other than someone who’d been involved in law enforcement before.

“Sorry, risks of the job. I meant no offense. So you obviously were out running, walk me through how you came across the deceased.”

“Well as you deduced,” dark eyes continued, “We were running. We’re training for the Boston Marathon and need to practice in all kinds of terrain and weather. We almost skipped this morning’s session in favor of yoga or something, but we figured no time like the present to face the challenge.”

“Good plan. My husband and I ran the NYC Marathon last year and the training regimen was tough but worth it in the end. So you came across the body around when?”  
“Let me check my phone to see when I dialed 911,” the other one, fairer, said. “OK it was around 7:30 a.m.”

“And did you notice anything odd?” Jared continued his standard questions.

“You mean other than a mutilated girl?” Dark eyes again with the attitude. 

“Yes, other than the deceased.” He tried to keep it professional but sometimes it was really fucking hard.

“No, I don’t think so,” the blonde seemed to be getting worked up again and frantically looked to her friend, “Jen did you notice anything?” 

“No, nothing seemed odd,” the Black Swan of the duo said. Jen. Should be easy to remember.

“All right ladies, let me just take down your names, phone numbers, and addresses and you can go warm up in one of the ambulances over there. An officer will take you girls home and hopefully you’re able to salvage what’s left of your Saturday.”

“We’d like to finish our run, if that’s allowed?” 

“Course it is,” he said through clenched teeth. He handed over his notebook for them to write their information down and he was honestly shocked when they both scribbled furiously and at least took him up on the offer of the warm ambulance before they were off again.

He flipped open his notebook and reviewed the information.

Angela Ritchie lived in the West Village but he froze when he saw that Genevieve (so Gen, not Jen) Cortese lived in the same building he shared with Jensen.

——

“Jared. How many people live in your building?” 

Jared didn’t like coincidences, call it an occupational hazard, and he certainly hadn’t liked the vibe coming off of Jen, no Gen. “I don’t know, six floors times seven apartments each is 42 apartments but I don’t know how many people live in each one.”

Chad blinked. “Oh......kay. I wasn’t actually looking for a number, I was just saying. Your building is really nice, it’s close to the train station, and it’s right in between two of the best shopping avenues. It shouldn’t rattle you this much that she lives in your building.”

He was right, of course. But that’s why it rattled him.

—

Jared walked into their apartment and was surprised that he was home before Jensen. Then he cringed because it meant that either the laundromat or the grocery store--shit--or both were more laborious than expected. He checked the pantry in the foyer and saw that both laundry carts were gone, which meant Jensen had stubbornly schlepped all of their laundry back and forth by himself either before or--let me check the fridge, double shit--after getting the groceries. He owed his husband. Big. 

But first, he needed to scratch his detective itch. 

Deciding he was going to get yelled at either way, he changed into lounge pants and a t-shirt and grabbed his laptop from the multipurpose table. Jensen was never really mad at him anyway. He just played up his grumpy exterior. 

He logged in remotely to his work station and did some digging on details that were bothering him. He had already started a voice memo on his phone so he took the time to type them out:

LP out of territory;  
LP quiet for three months;  
Timing with KCDA investigation;  
Spazzy witness.

He crossed out, “spazzy witness”, a few times because they were always a little off depending upon the crime. This was particularly barbaric so of course the women would react appropriately. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more. He tapped his pencil against his lip a few times before the bell interrupted his thoughts. It rang twice more and he checked his phone seeing a text from his husband. 

“Almost home, need help with carts. Ly.”

He slipped into his trainers with a smile on his face; he loved that Jensen always slipped in an, “I love you,” regardless of the text. He had asked his husband once if it was an automatic signature line and Jensen laughed as he tossed his phone over. Turns out a few people had automatic replies and signatures embedded so he could get in and out of group chats quickly. Jared’s wasn’t one of them.

As he jogged down to meet Jensen, he was fully prepared for one of two things:

One: Jensen would be overly polite and sweet, which meant he was seriously pissed about doing the “weekend adulting” as they called it; or  
Two: He would make Jared bring everything upstairs himself and then call it even.

What he wasn’t expecting was his witness helping Jensen inside the gate of the building. He was pinned by familiar green eyes and these new black ones that already rented a corner of his mind. Green looked mirthful and almost, “Thank God I’m saved,” while black looked, “The fuck are you doing here?”

“Hey, Jen...sen I didn’t see your text til you rang the bell otherwise I would’ve been down already,” Jared felt weird using his husband’s full name since it was rare for him to do so; but given the audience, he didn’t know what to do. “Let me grab these.”

“Just grab that one, I got the other. This is Gen, new to the building, met her yesterday,” Jensen said by way of greeting as he leaned in to kiss his husband.

“What are you doing here?” interrupted the newcomer to their little circle.

“Oh you two already met? Great then I don’t have to play the intermediary,” Jensen said. He always was happy to be relieved of small talk duty.

“Uh, yeah, kinda, um….” Gen drifted off, looking uncomfortable. Or maybe that was just her face, Jensen couldn’t be quite sure.

“Sure did. Met maybe an hour or two ago, right Ms. Cortese?” Jared made an exaggerated show of looking at his watch. “Yeah she was actually the one, or her friend rather, was the one who called in the vic down in the park. I was going to formally introduce myself as your friendly neighborhood Texan when I saw our mutual address you shared, but you ran off, quite literally, before I had the chance to process. She’s training for Boston, Jen. I told her that you and I ran through the park when you decided t….”

“To sign us up for the New York Marathon last year without consulting you or your schedule or my schedule or our parents’ anniversaries schedules or our niece’s christening’s schedule or the phases of the moon. I apologized like a million times, babe. Besides you kicked my ass and you can forever hold it over my head as like a, ‘Get out of jail free card,’ which sounds like something you would so which only strengthens everyone’s point that we’ve been together way too long,” Jensen continued. As always, once their banter started, it was difficult to stop, audience or not. They seemed to realize this at the same time because they peeked down at Gen with equally apologetic and bemused smirks.

“So you two are like…...oh wait, the husband thing, yes, sorry. Totally spazzed for a minute. Did not peg you for gay for one thing, Jensen. Yeah, Detective Ackles, mentioned you this morning just didn’t realize I already knew who it was. Then again, like he mentioned, I didn’t really stick around for small talk. Dead body and such. Not quite the welcome to New York I expected. I don’t remember that in the Taylor Swift song. So I’m assuming Detective is not your first name and I feel like, since you know basically everything about me because you no doubt ran mine and Ang’s names through your super secret NYPD database as soon as you got back to your precinct, I get to know yours now, too.”

Both men stared at the babbling woman in front of them with equally bewildered expressions. Jensen, however, spoke up for Jared intuiting that his husband was trying to process something. “Big guy here is Jared; doesn’t surprise me that he left that part out. As soon as the badge goes on the hip, the job takes over. He goes from yappy puppy to Mr. Johnny Five-Oh in world record time. It’s impressive, really.”

The whole time Jensen was talking, Gen just maintained eye contact with Jared as if in an act of defiance of...something. Jared held out his hand on autopilot and, in a voice he couldn’t recognize, mumbled out some caricature version of a Texas twang, “Well howdy, Miss Cortese. I’m Mr. Jared Padalecki-Ackles, but you can just call me Jared since I left the badge upstairs.” The joke fell flat between the two of them; Jensen, however? Almost fell over laughing.

Traitor.

“Um. OK. I guess. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, again? Not sure if this counts as meeting but I feel like I met two different versions of you so maybe they both count. I gotta run. See ya, guys.”

Jared watched her flee, there was really no other way to describe a woman who skirted the corner and looked over her shoulder as she went, while Jensen tried to catch his breath from when he decided Jared was a comedian. 

“Jared. Babe. I have never heard you sound like that in the history of, like, forever. What even was that?”

“Good question,” Jared mumbled. He grabbed the laundry carts and walked up with his husband; Jensen chatting about their dinner reservations at Gino’s and Jared replaying Gen’s words in his head, “I feel like I met two different versions of you.”


	4. Dinner and a Show No One Asked For

The Christmas decorations were still up along 5th Avenue, which was actually kind of nice on this particular evening. Snow was lightly falling and there wasn't yet enough accumulated--nor was expected--to turn into that lovely New York City gray. The snow filtered through the twinkling lights making the late January evening rather picturesque. Jared and Jensen were walking to dinner as they often did because, though they had a car, it was parked in the garage on 88th. Because of Jensen's work at KCDA, he got a discount on parking and it made the most sense this time of year anyway. They never had to worry about opposite side parking, assholes who thought double parking was OK, or the usual shenanigans that came along with city street parking. 

They went inside the cozy Italian restaurant, one of their favorites, and greeted the usual front end staff. Danni was frazzled at the hostess desk as usual on a Saturday night, Carmine was trying his best not to lose his patience with people who couldn't figure out what to order at the bar. Lauren, their favorite waitress, was all but sprinting all over the floor like the two other waiters, except Jared and Jensen could never remember their names. They got huge tips nonetheless.

"Hello beautiful boys, there's about a 45 minute wait even for my two favorite gays in the nabe. But you know the drill, go bat those pretty eyes at Carmine and I'm sure time will fly before you have your predictable orders of calamari, gnocchi, veal, and chicken parm," Danni beamed at them. 

"There's a lot to dissect what you just said, but I've had a day so Imma head to the bar. Good to see you as always, darlin," Jared leaned in to kiss her cheek before heading to their usual end of the bar.

"He had a rough call this morning," Jensen said by way of explanation though Danneel neither expected nor asked for one. "How ya doin, sweetheart? That man of yours treating you good?" 

Jensen had set up Danneel with a bartender, Steve Carlson, who worked at the corner bar near his office. Steve and Danneel were both very earthy, crunchy hippie type folks who often draped themselves in unconventional garb and lived their lives in their own little bubble of their version of happiness. Jensen knew they'd be a good match, but it never hurt to ask. 

"Oh, he's as fine as always. He's in the city with the guys tonight if you and the husband are interested in doing something other than watching Sopranos reruns and going to bed at 10 p.m. or whatever it is you two party animals do."

"I'll chat with Jay and see if he's up for it. Like I said, he had a rough morning so not sure if he's going to want to schlep into Manhattan," Jensen replied.

"Shit. I heard about the girl in Owls Head. It didn't even occur to me that Jared would've been called. Stupid on my behalf. Forget I said anything."

"Nah, girl. You're fine. Maybe it'll be just what he needs. I can always play up the, 'You made me go to Key Food AND the laundromat alone on sheet washing day, I want to go out and you owe me,' card," Jensen winked.

"Or you could withhold sex," Danneel smirked right back with a mirth in her eyes that Jensen fell in love with when they first met. In a platonic way, because girls....no thanks.

"Come on, why would I punish myself?!" he joked with another kiss to her cheek before joining his husband at the bar.

Jared was sipping on his whiskey neat and he had ordered Jensen a glass of Malbec. 

"Because you're a delicate little snow flower and the red wine makes you a warm, cozy dinner companion," Jared said half-jokingly as he nudged the glass towards his husband.

They toasted to nothing and split their time between people watching and chatting about idle nothings.

\--

"So Danni said Steve and the guys are hanging in the city tonight. I'm assuming they're going to Thom's in Union Square but I didn't ask. Might be a cool scene if you want to get out of Brooklyn for a few hours," Jensen mentioned to Jared around what he promised was his last bite of gnocchi....except for the next one.

Jared was quiet for a few minutes, which Jensen expected. What he did not expect, however, was Jared to perk up with, "Actually that sounds fun. The NCAA basketball tournament is coming up and I think BC and BU are playing each other. Thom's would be a cool place to watch it."

Professor Thom's was a Boston sports bar that looked like it was plucked directly from Newbury Street near the Fenway and dropped by Union Square in Manhattan. It was owned by a couple of Irish Catholic kids from Southie and the whole ambience of the bar was the exact opposite of what made New York so....New York.

"Really?"

"Yeah, why? Was this one of those, 'Hey whaddya think.....pleasesaynopleasesaynopleasesayno,' scenarios?" Jared smirked at his husband across his forkful of veal. Damn you, Danneel, they really were predictable.

"Not really, just surprised you're willing to head in."

"I'm not the one who, 'hates the motherfucking R train,' Jen."

"Fuck you," Jensen retorted with all the years of law school argument rhetoric up his sleeve. "Besides, the N goes express to Union Square."

Point, Jensen.

\--

The men were finishing their coffees and cannolis, which Jared thought would be a cute name for a dessert shop, when the head chef came over. Gino was a portly, middle aged gentleman; a first generation Italian American and always willing, able, and happy to pull up a literal chair and chat with Jared and Jensen.

"What's new, boys? I hope you're doing something tonight. Bay Ridge is beautiful and I love it, but my God it's boring on the weekends."

Jared and Jensen both laughed at that, Jared piping up first. "Hey, we love Bay Ridge, too. We decided to move here for a lot of reasons; the busting nightlife was not one of them. If we wanted that, we'd have ended up in Bushwick."

"And you would've ended up divorced," Jensen replied without missing a beat. Bushwick meant hipsters. Jensen didn't do hipsters. The pretention and self-righteousness and trust funds and avocado everything was just.....no.

Jared filled Gino in on their decision to head into the city for the night, which you would have thought was the greatest news Gino had ever heard by how excited he was. "Oh I love that place! I haven't been in years, probably since the Yankees and the Sox last played a CS game. They're a good group of guys there. Carmella just doesn't have the patience to head into Manhattan much anymore these days. I can't blame her; the MTA can't seem to get their shit together any more than di Blasio can figure out his policies."

Jared threw his head back laughing, Jensen just glared at him out of the corner of his eyes, already knowing what was about to spew from his husband's mouth.

"Jesus. You and Jen should have a dinner meeting one night about the terrors of the R train. I swear to God, his therapist should write the MTA a thank you note for how much she earns off of him bitching about its inefficiency," Jared laughed.

Jensen kicked his husband under the table and Jared just beamed and blew him a kiss. Instantly forgiven and he knew it. Bastard.

"Well, I'm free whenever you are, ADA Ackles. Maybe if I lodge a complaint with one of you bureaucrats something'll get done," Gino said only half seriously. 

"Gino we can meet up whenever, wherever, or whyever but don't ever call me a bureaucrat again," Jensen made a show of shivering as if he was called the lowliest of pond scum. And well, with politics the way they were, he'd rather be identified as anything other than a bureaucrat to be honest.

Gino moved to stand up and head back to the kitchen with a giant paw clasped to Jensen's upper back. "I know, I know. No offense, my boy," he said with a deep, hearty chuckle. "The coffee and cannoli are on the house, I know where to find youse if you stop coming altogether, but I'm confident that you two will maintain your schedule with regularity," he started to walk away before he stopped and leaned down to the men once more.

"By the way, Jared. You involved in that Owls Head investigation?"

Jared and Jensen looked at each other in bewilderment because Gino had never once even implied that he knew Jared worked for PD. 

"Uh, yeah Gino. I am, how did you...."

"Small town, kid. Besides, we Italians got a thing for kind of assuming everyone with a multisyllabic last name is one of us. Except for you Pollacks," he added with a familiar joke between the three of them. An Italian, a Pollack, and the prim and proper WASP; who'd have thought.

"Right. Well you know I can't talk about it, but yeah. Rough scene this morning. If you hear anything, though, let me know yeah? We'll take all the help we can get."

"Well it's funny you say that because this couple was in here earlier talking about it and it kind of creeped me out because it like just happened, ya know? Anyway, the whole thing rubbed me the wrong way so I took down his name off of the credit card slip in case I ran into youse guys this weekend," Gino said kind of sheepishly almost anticipating a law and order type scolding.

"G, that's kind of illegal, but appreciated all the same. You got the name on you by any chance?" Jared said quietly.

He pulled out a note from his pocket and handed it to Jared before clutching his shoulder, much like he did to Jensen moments earlier. "I hope this helps, let me know if there's anything else I can do. Have fun tonight, guys."

Jensen finished his coffee and flipped open his wallet to grab his credit card when he heard his husband choke a little bit. Expecting to see Jared spitting out coffee or perhaps a bit of cannoli that he had bitten into overenthusiastically, Jensen raised an eyebrow when he saw Jared just sitting there frozen looking at the slip of paper.

"Jay, what's up?"

Jared didn't say anything, just slid the paper across the table, Gino's messy scrawl smudged across the back of a receipt.

Giuseppe Inglioterra.

——

“He’s in Rikers. He’s supposed to be in Rikers,” Jensen kept repeating to himself as he fingered the wrinkled receipt in his palm. Jared was bouncing his knee in a sign of uncharacteristic impatience while their waiter, a newer guy, was apparently walking to the bank directly to approve the credit card transaction. 

“Jay, I know he’s there so how….”

Jared interrupted him curtly, also uncharacteristic. “Can we talk about this in the privacy of our own home? We don’t know who was here or why that name was used so we don’t know who else might be here and what else they might know...or rather think they know.”

Jensen snapped his mouth shut and nodded somberly in agreement. Clearly his husband was replaced by his detective alter ego from the second he saw the name. Eagle eyes sharply surveying the room and almost visibly making mental notes as to anything that seemed off. Stance protective even from across the table where one thumb was running circles around Jensen’s rapid pulse point. Jensen kind of loved his husband. 

An eternity later, the waiter returned with, fortunately for him, a rather pitiful look of apology. “I am so sorry for the delay, the boss stopped me and asked how you guys seemed. I told him you seemed in a rush to get out of here so I’d better hurry, and he just ripped the bill and said to tell you that, ‘He appreciates your help,’” the poor kid was clearly confused having no idea what had just transpired. Jared set his mouth in a firm line and tossed a sizable tip to Diego, according to his nametag, on the table with one hand while pulling his husband up with the other. Jared didn’t even count to see how much he left but judging by the kid’s stammering and wide eyes, it was impressive. Jared didn’t stick around to hear any more. He dragged, lovingly of course, Jensen towards the door and they made it home in record time. They made the walk in silence with Jared’s arm latched around Jensen’s shoulders and his eyes surveying the side streets and the sidewalks. 

When they got safely inside, Jensen sat on the armoire bench with a dazed look on his features. Jared, on autopilot, stalked through the apartment securing each lock and, Jensen couldn’t prove it, quickly scanned for anything misplaced that may have indicated an unwelcome visitor. He’d almost welcome a cockroach if it beat the alternative that someone had violated their home. Almost. But then, did he really want to go to NYU Medical Center with his hyperventilating husband demanding a full gamut of testing to make sure they weren’t infected with some incurable cockroach disease? No. He did not. At least he could just kill a cockroach, anyway. It would be…...frowned upon…...to just murder an intruder. 

When he noticed that Jensen hadn’t moved from the piece of furniture in the foyer, he padded over and gently guided his husband into the Great Room and onto the couch. He undid Jensen’s shoes and put them away before helping his sweater up and over his broad shoulders leaving him in his crisp white button down that did nothing to mask the pallor of his face or how starkly his freckles stood out. Freaking out hard, then. And…..23 minutes since last word spoken. Not quite his record, but….not good.

“OK. Let’s play what are you thinking. Go.”

Jensen took a shaky breath. “OK. This is all going to sound like I’m absolutely catastrophizing the whole situation, which I am, but you asked to play so we’re playing. I’m thinking that someone in the DA’s office is a double agent for the LPs and somehow has been in touch with Joe in Rikers and somehow got him released without anyone in our office knowing and somehow he moved to Bay Ridge despite not having any ties to the area and he killed that poor girl in the park and then went to dinner to celebrate his return to the glory days.”

Jared blinked trying to process the verbal diarrhea that came with panicked Jensen. Then, he remembered his role in the game as, “Logic versus Panic,” and it was pretty clear who the panic was. 

“OK and I am thinking of this, in order, with logic. Deep breath and we’ll go through it all. 

One, the likelihood of a double agent in your office is low. You are an awesome judge of character and you’ve never once said anything out of turn about your colleagues, Jen. Some of them annoy you with their personalities, but you’ve never voiced any concerns before. And don’t you think that they would have slipped up before? I know a new ADA class just started, but I just don’t see a wet behind the ears attorney throwing it all away so soon after making it to KCDA. Two, you can easily access his list of visitors to the island. Actually, knowing you, as soon as you saw the case come to CRU, you requested the log from your buddy in Corrections. Dave, right?” Jensen nodded. Jared smirked. 

Three, similar to two, you would already know if Inglioterra had been released. You would have had to appear at a hearing or at the very least, would’ve been called to speak with corrections. His defense attorney would also had to have filed something with CRU about their plans to put forward a motion for release. Four, if he was released, he wouldn’t move to Bay Ridge because of what you said exactly. He’s got no ties here. And just a reminder that I am a detective in the Bay Ridge precinct, and we are informed when cons secure housing in the area so we can plan dispatch accordingly. Don’t look at me like that, broken windows policing is effective when done correctly,” Jared added when Jensen huffed frustratingly when Jared started talking about a particular policy with which he disagreed. 

Five and six: the investigation is way too premature to make any connection to any suspect regardless of facts. Facts, Jensen, not circumstance and panic. You know that, OK. And while Gino’s does have some kickass mozzarella sticks, I highly doubt that’s the first place someone would go if they’re trying to keep a low profile.” Jared sat in the silence waiting for his husband to process what was said and formulate a reply. Jared gave him about three minutes before Jensen would retrieve his case file and preliminary reports that he, “Wasn’t going to look at over the weekend,” to cross reference everything Jared just said. 

Jensen moved at 1 minute 57 seconds.

“OK so here are the visitor logs and the defense team’s plan. No mention of release, just a lot more interrogatory bullshit and….don’t smirk, Jay. It takes a helluva lot to make you look unattractive but the cockiness, not that kind, is certainly one of ‘em,” Jensen continued without even looking up. He could just feel Jared’s self satisfaction. Bastard.

“OK this is weird though, because I always include a hot pink, your favorite color, index card on the inside flap of my case files with stuff I need to know quickly. Phone numbers and key people...that kind of stuff,” he picked up after scolding his husband.”

“And?”

“And…...it looks like it was peeled off, which means someone specifically went looking for it. I…..” Jensen drifted off, clearly in confusion and at a loss for logic, once again.

“Is it possible that it just got caught on something else? A different file maybe? It would take someone seriously clever to sneak into your messenger bag while you were wearing it and scrape that card off,” Jared was trying for the logic angle, once again.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just….so many coincidences so close together are making me feel real uncomfortable. What time is it?” 

“Like 10 p.m., why?” Jared was afraid he knew where this was going. “No. Baby, no. We are not going downtown and spending the night in your office. Let’s just try to get some rest or if we can’t do that, we can find something to keep our minds busy,” he suggested with an overdramatic eyebrow wiggle. 

Jensen scrubbed a hand down his face, “No; I know, you’re right. I just….don’t like this, Jay.”

“I know you don’t, neither do I. But we have another whole day before Monday and all of this shit will be there waiting for us, yes us, on Monday. I can use my resources, too ya know. And by the time we’re both home Monday night, we’ll have half of this accounted for,” Jared was trying for as much confidence as he could.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m just tired. It’s been a weird day. And as much as I love the idea of, ‘Finding something to keep our bodies busy,’ I’m beat. Nothing against you, of course. Like I said, ‘Takes a lot for you to be unattractive.’”

“Hmmm...I think I said, ‘Keep our minds busy,’ but nice to see where your brain went, Counselor.”

“Oh fuck you, Detective.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“I am. Shut up and kiss me.”

\--

By the light of about a dozen flickering candles, the hot pink index card flipped back and forth between stubbed little fingers that showed every battle wound they’d ever experienced in too traumatic a life at too young an age. The candles weren’t for ambience or anything, merely to avoid another bill, one less thing to connect a name to. The burner phone flicked to life and after a few rings, “Hey. I think I’ve got something that might be of interest to you. Yeah I’ll meet you at the pier in an hour. Watch your back,” a valley girl tongue snaked. Genevieve flipped the phone shut and snapped a photo of the card before taping it next to Joey’s mugshot on the wall of her studio.


	5. What’s in a Name

She stalked towards the pier, fingers stuffed into her mink lined pockets; she was born to the wealthy Castiglione family after all and did enjoy the finest things. Which is why when she was emancipated, she used her trust fund to move into a sweet 2-bedroom in the Village; something few people could afford, least of all her new NYU peers. But she still felt stuck here trying to blend in with a sea of wannabes when her own personality demanded attention. When she met Joey things changed, got interesting, got her noticed, got her places. 

“Almost didn’t recognize you Jennifer. What are you taking these days? Testosterone, HGT, steroids? You’re looking more and more like that 12-year-old kid you were on the JV soccer field at boarding school,” a dark figured man rasped out between the cigarette in his lips. 

“Dude, I’m trying to help you out. These constant 12-year-old boy comments have been getting old for a while now and they’re no closer to making me cooperative in this little crusade of yours,” she snarked right back. She was active, she had to be for all the trouble she’d caused and had to flee from. Besides, it always helped that people just assumed she was a guy with how fast she ran and how curveless she was. Some people teased her for it, but she had shown all of them in the past and it wasn’t past her to show this motherfucker the same Californian hospitality.

“So that Gianna kid, did you know her?” the mystery man said without glancing her way. He puffed on his cigarette and continued in a detached voice, "Weird that she has your same last name. Your real last name."

“Well coincidences happen and there's a fuckton of Italians in New York City, asshole. And, no. Like I told the cops, you know, the one who's he’s married to the ADA in charge of this clusterfuck, I saw her in the park. I thought she looked familiar but all these petite brunettes look the same to me,” she huffed in annoyance.

A dark chuckle puffed out between the cold winter air. “And yet, you get all pissed off if someone dares say the same about your, Your Highness.”

“Fuck you. I ain’t been 'royalty' since I left my dysfunctional as fuck family and moved across the country. Now are you going to continue to insult me, or do you want to know what I’ve found out?”

“Shoot. I certainly don’t agree to meet with you for your stunning personality,” he smoked back.

“Turns out Joey knew exactly where he was setting me up when he convinced me to make the move to Bay Ridge. I live in the same building as ADA Jensen Motherfucking Ackles, you know? The bastard who locked Joey up in the first place. And bonus, his husband is a lead detective at the 68th precinct. Imagine how fucking convenient that is. The tall one, that’s Jared, met me at the crime scene and he already got a bad vibe from me, then he finds out I kind of know his husband, then he runs into me in his building. Imagine how great all of that went over, jackass,” her lisp came out when she was particularly annoyed.

Making an overexaggerated show of wiping his face with a handkerchief, “You done spraying me with your frustrations or do you actually have something for me.”

“You’re an asshole you know that? Anyway, when I met the Pretty One, that’s Jensen, he was only half paying attention to the mail and the pizza that he was preoccupied to notice little old me happen to see a hot pink note with Joey’s name on it. And before you ask, no I did not bring the actual card but here’s a photo,” Gen handed over her cell phone.

“So ADA Ackles is the one responsible for getting little Joey in Rikers, huh? I wonder if he was too busy choking on his husband’s dick to actually pay attention to the facts of the case. Or the family history of the case.”

“One, your homophobia is showing and it’s shitty, and two, from what I gather, he’s actually a pretty well respected ADA in KCDA,” Gen couldn’t believe she was actually defending the fucker who put her brother, not by blood of course, in jail.

“Golden child or not, how he managed to fuck up this case is beyond me. Joey’s innocent, you know this and I know this; what amazes me is that the PD only searched within the LP family. That’s probably the only reason you haven’t felt the full brunt of Detective Padalecki’s skills yet,” her uncle whispered to her in an intentionally menacing way.

“I told you it was a smart move to change my name when I was freed. Even when I was 16, I knew there was something off about The Castle , as you always refer to yourself. Sure, my childhood was fucked up and I’ve got the mental and emotional scars to prove it, but somehow evolving into a Cortese kept me feeling seminormal.”

Her uncle snorted, “Seminormal? How many places have you lived since being emancipated at such a young age? How did you spend that trust fund? How many men did you sleep with to make it ahead. You’re no better than the rest of us,” he sneered.

“Whatever, Joey took me under his wing when I got to New York and he was the only real family I ever had. We've sang this song so many times; it's boring. Let’s not sit here and pretend we’re all innocent in this. And let’s not forget the ones who fucked up the case in the first place. I understand that precious Mr. Ackles is a Texas rose with his perfect little marriage and family down in Dallas so maybe our names confuse him, “Castiglione, Cortese...they can be a mouthful. Ha, that’s what our dear detective said at the crime scene this morning. I overheard him after he said a little prayer to whichever God talks to gays,” she joked.

“Now who’s the homophobe.”

Oh knock it off, that was for your amusement. They’re hot, I’d pay to watch them go at it. Can you imagine how ho…..”

“Enough. Jesus you’re a sick son of a bitch,” her uncle was getting visibly green at the thought.

Genevieve just smirked in a self satisfied way.

“What did he mean by a mouthful?”

“He played it off like a gay thing that would make us, or them considering I wasn’t supposed to hear it, uncomfortable. Why?”

“Well what if he was already starting to put the Inglioterra and Castiglione names together?” Her uncle was pondering out loud. 

“How would he even know the name Inglioterra and how would he connect it to Casitglione?”

“His husband’s an ADA right? Didn’t Joey’s case just come across the CRU, where Ackles works,” her uncle was starting to spiral a bit.

“Well, yeah…”

“And don’t you think it’s a coincidence that the new ADA class includes my nephew, Paolo Engloterra?” Genevieve was starting to put some pieces together. But she certainly wasn't about to let her uncle know that she was more than familiar with Paolo--or Paul as she called him.

“Well Engloterra and Inglioterra are two different names, similar but...not. And quit calling everyone your niece and nephew, man. He’s your best friend’s kid.”

“You’re not the only one who can switch their names like the wind.”

“Do you think Ackles is starting to connect some lines?” the panic in their voices was starting to rise.

“Do you want to take that risk? You need to become the best neighbor ever. Find out everything they know about Joey’s case.”

“Uncle Gino, why do you think I gave you Inglioterra's name at dinner earlier and why do you think I brought you Ackles card now?” Genevieve reminded him with a quirked eyebrow.

“I guess you’ve got some Castiglione blood in you after all.”

—-

The rest of Jared and Jensen’s night was restless, and not in the sexy way Jared had hope. Their insomnia kicked in every other hour so while one was awake, the other was finally resting. When the other stirred away with the day’s events breaking him of his own REM cycle, the other was finally blissed out. It so happened that Jensen was the one awake this time. Blinking at his phone, he saw that it was 4 a.m. He tried to do some quick math in his head to calculate the number of cumulative hours of sleep he got, but decided it was a pointless effort. He was exhausted, but he knew he was up for the day. 

Quietly, despite knowing Jared slept through just about anything, unless is was a morning blow job of course, he grabbed his computer from the side table and the rest of his notes before retreating to the Great Room. He threw on the playlist he titled, “Work Background” on his phone and threw his headphones in and he began to pore over the information in front of him.

Giuseppe Inglioterra, born July 21, 1990 in Alessandria, Italy, parents deceased in Italy, moved to San Francisco when he was 20, made his way across the country to Brooklyn when he was 21. Became known as an affiliate of drug dealers, including but not limited to LP. Started with petit larceny, drinking in public, minor level cases that got him summonses but nothing serious. He showed up to a few KCDA events over the years enough that the Red Hook Community Justice Center called him one of their frequent fliers. 

Interesting character, devout Catholic and participated in mass weekly; glowing character recommendations from the Monsignor and other parochial staff when he had to complete community service. But then something changed when he hit 27 years old in 2017. Jensen was already established at KCDA by then, but still working in the trial divisions. It didn’t mean he hadn’t heard about the guy. CIs and the 76 in Red Hook had all been involved in putting together a kind of, “Watch List,” for Inglioterra. That was around the time they started calling him Joe the Brit, not knowing that Joey was the name his family and friends used. 

What changed with this guy?

Joe was linked to dealing exclusively on college campuses: NYU, Columbia, Cornell, Barnard, Pratt. Not exactly budget schools, but then what schools were nowadays? Jensen began scribbling his notes down...2017: College Drug Ring. Why? He circled the year and decided to dive deeper into Inglioterra’s life around then. Any new acquaintances? Would it be possible to subpoena phone records that far back? 

He pulled out his visitor logs and list of witnesses who had ever been questioned about Joe--Jared was right--so much easier to say that rather than thinking the whole name each time. College coeds for the most part. And mostly girls. And mostly girls fitting Gianna Castiglione’s description. Petite, brunette, dark features, new to the city for college. This one girl happened to be out in Bay Ridge instead of LP’s usual hunting ground so. What. Fucking. Changed.

By that point, he could hear Jared starting to move around in the bedroom and he didn’t even bother to clean up his notes and such. Jared would know what he was doing anyway. His husband shuffled into the Great Room and flipped the switch on the coffee pot grunting that 6 a.m. on a Sunday wasn’t ideal but, “S’not like we’re getting any more sleep than we already didn’t. L’help ya in a minute,” Jared said through yawn and drool. So attractive.

He plopped down on the leather cushion next to Jensen and pored his detective eyes over the list of witnesses in the past who had been called to testify and he stumbled when he saw two names. 

NYU Student, 2018: Angela Ritchie  
NYU Student, 2018: Campbell Doran

“Hey, Jen?”

“Mmmmm.”

“These two names here? Angela and Campbell? You remember talking to them before?”

“Nah. Probably detectives at the 76 or the 6th in Manhattan. Why?”

“Angela was a witness at my crime scene yesterday morning,” Jared said point blankly. 

“Well that’s yet another coincidence I don’t enjoy. Let me ask you a question, do you think we could find out who else was in their class?” Jensen asked hopefully.

“I’ll do you one better to narrow it down. Why don’t you see if Jennifer--or Genevieve--Cortese went there around then, too?” Jared suggested as Jensen began to furiously type into his KCDA server.

Right there in front of them, “Jennifer Cortese, class of ‘17, BFA and a BA. Smart girl.”

“Maybe smarter than we are giving her credit for. She was around new to the city around the same time Inglioterra was and around the same time he started expanding LPs drug ring to the college circuit,” Jared said.

“So….what do you think we should do,” Jensen asked already knowing what his husband was going to say.

“We’re going to your office for the day. Then we’re going to mine. Then we’re talking with little miss secrets downstairs.”


	6. Overtime Ain’t No Crime

Jared parked his cruiser in the reserved lot under KCDA’s building. He shared a fraternal smile with the security guard who had to check both his and Jensen’s credentials. “Can’t get enough during the week, huh guys?”

“Something like that,” Jared joked back, somehow in a carefree attitude despite their Sunday being rerouted to Downtown Brooklyn instead of their weekly brunch at the cafe around the street. 

The two men made their way over to the employees’ entrance and scanned their hands authorizing them to access the building off hours. Once they got to the lobby, the only other people who were there were a few other ADAs, they looked like newer class members trying to prove themselves. Poor kids, only thing they’re going to do is burn themselves out. Jensen thought.

Jensen flashed his ADA badge to Pete, retired PD and fellow Bay Ridge neighbor. “Ackles, why you here on a Sunday? I thought you learned long ago that they don’t pay you overtime for overthinking,” Pete knew what he was doing as he said it loud enough for the bustling ADAs milling around.

“Just got an itch I need to scratch, you remember my husband, Jared,” Jensen nodded between the two men.

“Sure thing, man. Look Detective, you have to sign in at the PD desk before you can head up with Jensen. Then you have to report to Blue Trial Zone to sign in again explaining the reason for your visit off hours….I know the red tape will kill ya,” Pete said already sensing Jared’s frustration.

“And then, pretty please do I have persmission to go to the super elitist 19th floor where my higher-class of human ADA husband will be?” Jared couldn’t bite back the snark. He’d been in this building as often as Jensen had, under different circumstances of course, but the whole union thing made it impossible for anything to be easy.

“Yes, Detective, once you’re a good boy and do everything you’re supposed to do...like you’re always supposed to do, you can go find Ackles in his office. Your badge will get you into his bureau once you do the monkey dance for me a few more times.”

Jensen waited while Jared signed in at PD, Felicia was working the desk today. They did receive overtime. Then again, Jensen gathered, their pay was clearly not what they deserved and he had overheard enough arguments between Mamas A and B to get involved. They rode up in the elevator first and when Jensen made to get off at Blue, Jared just kissed his temple and said, “I’ll be up in a few. I know where you’ll be.”

\--

Jensen, somehow within the no more than five minutes Jared had left his side, had every file splayed out on the conference table that was up for grabs since most sane people weren’t there on Sundays.

“So where do you want to start?” Jared approached.

“2017 when Inglioterra started, or presumably started, the college ring. We’ve got Cortese, Ritchie, and Doran as witnesses--either back then, now, or both. Maybe we should start drafting interrogatories for VCE. Violent Crimes usually tackles the high grade drug trafficking. I also want to talk with the detectives I interviewed when we convicted this guy. Can you do me a favor while I start to draft up notes,” Jensen asked, eyes still focused on something Jared couldn’t discern. 

“Course.”

“Can you pull the file of the new ADA class that started when the DA did. DA Brown rose up through the ranks here so it doesn’t surprise me that he made DA, but it does surprise me if he let a proverbial bad egg through the cracks,” Jensen continued in that faraway counselor brain.

“Any names particular?”

“I don’t know yet. Just see what their LSAT scores were, where they went to law school, how often they applied, and what was the deciding factor to bring them on. It’s in a spreadsheet on my desktop. JA>LH>ADASP20. It’s password protected. You probably already know what it is, but just in case, it’s our anniversary,” Jensen said over his shoulder.

“Password didn’t work, Jen.”

Jensen blushed…..”It’s the anniversary of, um…...the first time...we uh…”

“Fucked?” Jared bit his lip from smiling too hard in case Jensen was genuinely embarrassed about remembering that.

“Can you please just get in and do your detective thing and stop humiliating me?” Jensen whined.

“‘Can you please just get in.’ Huh, that sounds familiar from that night.”

“Jared, I will kill you.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jared giggled out.

\-- 

Two hours later they had a list of ADAs that Jensen dubbed “suspicious”. Too many applications, borderline LSAT scores, some clearly in it just because of who they knew, and one Engloterra who Jensen decided, apparently, that he was guilty by association of a popular Italian last name. Once again, playing the voice of logic, Jared had to remind Jensen of his own induction when he was in his first ADA class.

“Jen, you had to provide your birth certificate, your passport and any old passports indicating wherever you may have been, your social security card, at least a decade’s worth of pay stubs, if you changed your name, you needed to bring a certified copy from the courts indicating as such, they swabbed your mouth for DNA. That part I remember real well because you had just given me the mother of all blow jobs that morning before remembering that was part of your test. You used about two bottles of Listerine and I’ve never seen you floss ever. I highly doubt anyone couldn’t faked their name to change it to something eerily similar. You’re reaching.”

“I know, there’s just so many coincidences and similarities that I feel like I’m losing it,” Jensen said with a weary hand brushing his hair back off his furrowed brow.

“Maybe it’s because this whole weekend has been dedicated to working, and not actually rebooting our batteries like we should have. Look, we’ve been here a few hours, you go home and I’ll run to the precinct to print out any reports I am able to get from the 76. I’ve got a buddy there who may be willing to help me out. You’re beat, I’m beat, but with this plan we can make it home in two hours and still have Sunday afternoon to relax. And before you bitch that I have the cruiser and you don’t and it’s not fair, just use your fancy ADA powers to call the blue car service to get you home that way you don’t have to deal with MTA’s weekend service,” Jared said dropping a kiss to the aforementioned furrowed brow.

Once they got to the lobby, Jensen ran to the bathroom as Jared leaned against the glass windows texting their buddy at the 76, “Hey man, sorry to bug you on a Sunday, Jen needs help with something and I think you might have some info. Any chance you could meet me at the 68 for a few?”

“Sure thing, dude. I have a feeling I know what this is about anyway. Let me know when.”

“Thanks, Mike; 'preciate it." p>He slipped his phone in his pocket as he heard an inane giggle that didn’t belong in a DA’s office and when he looked over, he saw none other than Mystery Woman Genevieve wrapped around a guy in a well dressed suit. As soon as she saw him, her face faltered, just as Jensen emerged from the bathroom. 

“Oh, man! You’re Jensen Ackles, aren’t you? Man, I’m one of the new ADAs and I’ve been dying to meet you. This is my fiancee, Jennifer, she wanted to see where I worked,” the kid said eagerly.

“Oh….kay. Hey, yeah I’m Ackles. This is my husband Jared. Don’t know if anyone told you this, but it’s really not a visiting hours kind of place. Jared is NYPD and had to look into something as did I, that’s the only reason we’re here. So unless you got work to do, I’d suggest you take your…...fiancee….and grab lunch or something,” Jensen replied smoothly, trying not to belie his confusion and being caught off guard.

“Shit, man didn’t even think about that. Name’s Paul by the way. Engloterra. Well technically the name’s Paolo, but everyone calls me Paul.”

“Baby, he said we shouldn’t really be here, so why don’t you show me the view from the Promenade instead, it looks like these two are in a hurry to…..well frankly be anywhere but here…..anyway, so….”

“Right! Sorry, guys. Anyway nice to meet you, er both, and I hope we can work on a case, Jen! I’ve heard you’re one of the best,” the kid, Paul, hurried out.

“Maybe, you know we’re not in charge of which cases we catch. And I tend to keep it professional at work so either Jensen or Ackles is fine if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, totally not a problem.”

“Jen, we should go,” Jared said, intentionally and sure to enunciate the one syllable.

“Yeah, we should.”


	7. Keep Your Friends Close

They were quiet on the ride back to the garage. Jared was the first to speak up. “Jen, listen I think we sh…..”

“Should salvage what little bit is left of this weekend. We’ve done nothing but work and stress ourselves out, and conspiracy theorize, and tomorrow is Monday. That’s when we should be doing those things, not on our time off,” Jensen would deny it later, but he was thisclose to whining that last part.

“I was merely going to say, ‘I think we should grab brunch to go and then park it on the couch all day.”

Jensen leaned over and kissed his husband’s temple, feeling the smirk reach his kaleidoscopic eyes.

\--

“OK so that movie sucked,” Jared bemoaned after being subjected to over two hours of Parasite. “I know it’s a front runner for Best Picture and everything, but I just cannot do subtitles, man. Subtitles for two hours no less. At least the silent dog movie you made me watch all those years ago was entertaining...because...dog,” Jared said in reference to The Artist. Jensen was something of a movie buff and he loved watching the films that were nominated for the Oscars. 

“All right so I’ll admit this one wasn’t the best, but at least we can say we’ve seen it now! Besides, you know Tom and Mike always have their red carpet viewing party and the more we’ve seen the better chances we have of winning the week in Southampton,” he said in reference to their friends, Tom and Mike Welling’s summer home out east. Their red carpet parties were pretty over the top, but everyone always had fun. Ballots were handed out so partygoers could predict who they thought would win and it turned a solid evening of laughter. Besides, with the exception of the one year Chad and Sophia won, the Hamptons Week turned into just a smaller version of the party. Chad and Sophia had been newly dating and were still in the pseudo-honeymoon stage. No one wanted to crash their couples time. More to the point?No one wanted to be privy to their couples time. 

“All right so it’s…...9 p.m., what do you want to do?” Jared said with no hint of suggestion in his voice, no doubt just as much a victim to the Sunday Scaries as his husband, especially going off of their restless weekend. 

“Would it be totally lame if we just crashed? I’m beat, man. I feel like it’s been one thing after another all weekend and going into a new week, it’s just going to be as chaotic,” Jensen used Jared’s trademark puppy eyes trying to convince his husband that it wasn’t pathetic for two 30-somethings to call it a night around 9 a.m.

“Thank God you suggested it first, I’m going to lock up, wash up, all that shit, and then I’ll meet you in bed in like 10 minutes. What kind of tea do you want?” Jared knew his husband too well.

“If you tease me for this, I’ll kick your ass; but the lemon, lavender chamomile sounds really good, I need something to take my sleeping pill anyway.” Jensen was, and always had been a terrible insomniac. After years of trying to convince his doctors that it wasn’t just anxiety or a restless mind, he finally got a prescription for something that actually worked. Thank fuck.

Jensen stripped to his boxers after washing his face and brushing his teeth. He used the olive oil based lotion they had bought in Greece the summer before to keep his skin from falling victim to NYC dry skin. He was propped up on his side of the bed, ankles crossed beneath the sheet and duvet, glasses perched low on his nose, with the dimmed bed frame light sconces providing just enough warmth to flip through a magazine. Jared joined shortly thereafter similarly dressed balancing the tea in one hand and his water bottle in the other.

“Thanks, baby. I cracked the window already so you can just slide in,” Jensen whispered as if he had already taken his medicine, which wasn’t the case as Jared soon witnessed.

“I love you, Jen. Sunday nights always suck, and this one may seem like it sucks more than usual, but we got this. You got this. I’m going to throw my headphones in and listen to Headspace for a bit, but if you need anything, now, an hour from now, or anytime throughout the night, just rattle me,” Jared kissed the furrow between Jensen’s brow where his glasses kept slipping. 

“I love you most, babe.”

\--

The last thing Jensen expected when he got to his office the next morning was for Paul Engloterra to be sitting in the chair outside his door. Good Monday morning, Ackles, he sighed to himself.

“Hey, Mr. Ackles, I hate to pounce on you first thing; I know you must have a million things to do, but I just wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Paul hurried out, obviously nervous.

“C’mon in. There’s really nothing to apologize for. It’s just not exactly protocol to have your SO in the building for a tour. Jared, that’s my husband you met, is NYPD so even when he is here seemingly with me, he needs to sign in a bunch of different places to authorize his comings and goings. Hell, even I have to do that if it’s a really bizarre time of night, which newsflash kid, will happen to you eventually,” Jensen smirked remembering the same warnings he had been given when he was new.

“Yeah, I guess I should have figured all that. Jen was just so excited to see the building. I’ve only been an ADA for a few weeks but the other day she came over all excited to see where the, “Suits and blues”, work out of,” Paul recounted his fiancee’s (interesting that he kept calling her Jennifer) air quotes, which reminded him of his own first meeting.

“Right. She lives in my building ya know. I met her on Friday, though it seems like a lifetime ago.”

“Yeah she just moved to Bay Ridge, my family owns a house down on Shore Road that we’re renovating to move into once we’re married. Instead of commuting back and forth from her old place on Christopher Street in the Village, she decided to get a little closer,” Paul responded.

“So how long you two been together?”

“About three years, we met at NYU, she was going to Tisch--she wants to be an actress! Isn’t that cool? And I was a 1L. We met through some mutual friends and just kind of hit it off.”

An actress? I guess that would explain why she was kind of flighty and couldn’t seem to keep her stories straight. Lying is a full time job and that’s basically all acting is, anyway. Jensen’s inner monologue was trying to keep track.

“Yeah she introduced herself as Genevieve when I met her, maybe that’s her stage name?”

Paul laughed. “I swear it’s a running joke between us about her name. Her real name is Jennifer, which is what I call her, she picked Genevieve to be more exotic when she decided she wanted to act. And then there’s the whole Rubik’s Cube of her last name,” Paul laughed again. Either this guy was completely besotted with this duplicitous snake, or he was genuinely naive to how erratic her story was.

“Last names are pretty basic. I mean, Jared had to jump through a few hoops to change his when we got married, but it still wasn’t too much of an ordeal that we’d call it a Rubik’s Cube,” Jensen tried to keep the conversation going. Any information would be helpful since this girl apparently kept popping up in Jared’s LP case and the old information they dug up from Inglioterra’s NYU ring. 

“Jeez, man. That girl’s been through hell. Seriously, she’s incredible. Her biological family is fucked up, like seriously fucked up. She was emancipated when she was 16 with one helluva trust fund--she calls it hush money but it never stopped her from spending it--that was when she changed her name from Castiglione to Cortese. She became good friends with another group of kids who were just trying to get by at NYU also. " 

Jensen just sat still, resisting the urge to have the poor kid write everything down. Luckily, he had a sharp mind and could remember just about everything the kid had just said. 

Well, Miss Whoever the Fuck You Are, you are certainly an important part in this whole web of shit we’ve got going on.

——

Jared sat at his desk in the precinct staring at the blinking cursor on the screen. Out of all the bullshit they dealt with all weekend, how could he be drawing a blank now?

As if by ESP or whatever kind of freaky mind meld he and his husband had, Jensen texted at that exact moment. Mystery chick born Jennifer Castiglione, changed to Cortese when she matriculated to NYU.”

“Damn baby, you rock,” Jared whispered as Chad walked by. 

“If that’s a dick pic, I don’t wanna see it, Ackles. Your husband is pretty as can be but I don’t need to see the cash and prizes.”

Jared took great pleasure showing the phone to Chad, who was in a precautionary recoil, before reading the text. “Huh, so she’s a shifty one. Let’s get a story board going.”

Victim: Gianna Castiglione  
Witness: Jennifer nee Castiglione, re Cortese  
Witness: Angela Ritchie, only name  
Camera Footage: Due by 2200 today  
MO: Follows LP protocol  
Suspects: None pending further witness conversation, camera footage 

“So why’d this Gen girl get emancipated at 16?”

“Come on, man, you know as well as I do that the Castle has been one of the biggest nationwide mob families in the country since WWII. When she was young, she probably wanted nothing more than to be unaffiliated with them. If she swore to never open her mouth, they probably paid her a pretty penny to go wherever the fuck she wanted. I did a quick search and it seems that Cortese was her mom's maiden name." 

Looks like she nannied and waitresses a bit before moving out here in 2016. First address listed as a nice place in the West Village; hush money spent right there. She enrolled at Tisch to get an acting degree and from what I can put together, that’s where she met Inglioterra.”

“No shit. He didn’t go to college, least of all NYU, man,” Chad added in disbelief. 

“No…..but stressed out college kids in the biggest city in the world? Away from home for the first time? Prime target for new clientele dontcha think?” Jared smirked.

“Sure but how does Miss Whatever Her Name Is get hooked up with that? Doesn’t seem like the drug type.”

“Certainly seems like the social climber and, ‘Will do anything for a leg up,’ type though. So what we need to do is establish a connection, a solid connection, between Jennifer and Inglioterra. Something happened there and we need to figure out what it is.” 

—

“War room, 3 minutes, no excuses!” Captain Morgan’s voice boomed through the precinct. As busy as an NYPD squad room was, it was amazing how his voice still managed to echo.

Jared and Chad were the first ones into the strategy room, as they often were, and took their unofficially assigned seats at the front. Slowly, but methodically, the rest of the detectives and some plainclothes officers made their way in. Jared recognized most of them from major crimes, gangs, and organized crimes bureaus. They all shared a fraternal nod in acknowledgment before their Captain made his way to the podium.

“All right so this is a new one for us. We’ve all worked on murder cases before. We’ve all seen dead bodies. And we’ve all seen some form of gang violence. This is new because it happened here. And because it happened here, we’re going to have eyes on us. One PP wants to know our playbook before we even write a playbook, the press wants to know every skeleton in your closets despite being vetted by this department, and, unfortunately, they’re going to paint our victim to somehow be deserving of what happened to her. Ackles, why don’t you give us the post-it version of what we know so far. You’re senior detective and one of the first on the scene.”

“Yes, sir. I arrived on the scene Saturday morning with my partner, Murray. Her injuries and positioning were identical to Last Prayer’s MO. The Catholic symbolism of the nailed hands, the crown of thorns, the bullet through what they call, ‘The Third Eye’. In the past, LP claims that they’re seeking out the sinners of the world and ridding the city of impurities. What a 19-year-old girl could’ve possibly done, we don’t know. The ME’s results showed that she had cocaine and alcohol in her system, but nothing that really marks her as an amoral plague on society. Please note that I am using all of this as hyperbole based on actual statements from incarcerated LPs at Rikers,” Jared took a breath before continuing. One of his peers, evidently, took this as a Q+A break.

“Ackles, ain’t it true that that husband of yours is reinvestigating the Inglioterra arrest from a few years back? What’s the likelihood that that appeal came across the same time this happened in our hood?” Denison. Jared always hated Denison, he just couldn’t place why.

“Well, Detective, I’m same rank as you and you should know that how the DA’s office handles their investigations is their own business until we cross paths. And you should also know that bringing personal connections and angles into an investigation is not only unethical, it’s just fucking rude,” Jared couldn’t help but snap.

Denison just smirked, apparently satisfied with getting Jared to flinch a bit.

Morgan took over the podium as a kind of peaceful gesture. “KCDA is no doubt working this same as we are, if and when our two agencies need to review notes and theories, we will do so. And by we, I mean the detectives who caught this case and the ADAs who did likewise.”

Jared ran his hands through his hair before sitting back down next to Chad, leg bouncing irritably. 

“You did fine, man. You know Denison has always had it out for you since you edged him out on the senior detective exam.”

“I know, but the fucker doesn’t need to bring Jen into it. Shit; that pisses me off.”

“I know, man.”

—

Jensen was sat in the DA’s conference room with about half a dozen other ADAs with a board that, no doubt, looked exactly like the one Jared was looking at down south. 

“Ackles, I need you to pull all your files, notes, detectives interviews, witness interviews, everything you’ve got on Inglioterra’s conviction. You’re one of the best, so I have no doubt there’s not a single comma misplaced but we owe it to anyone to review their right to a fair trial….and sentencing.”

Jensen nodded through a lump in his throat. He didn’t do anything wrong, he always followed the law to the letter; that’s why he went into law. Black and white. Right and wrong. Yes and no.

“But because the timing of this appeal and the dead woman in the 68, I do want to bring in some fresh eyes if that’s OK with your team?”

Jensen nodded again because what else could he do? “Fuck off Mr. DA?” That’d go over well.

“Great so I’m thinking we should get some of the new ADA class involved since there’s a lot of court parts to this case. I saw you speaking with Engleson this morning, Ackles, is that right?”

Jensen’s stomach plummeted. “Engloterra? Yeah. Turns out his fiancée is my neighbor and also a witness in this case so….”

He snapped his mouth shut so fast he thought he broke a tooth loose. He did not, should not, and absolutely cannot believe he said that out loud. 

DA Brown looked contemplative and then to his executive ADA next to him. “Ackles, work with Engloterra on this. And by work with him, I also mean work on him.”

Fuck.


	8. We Need to Work on Our Communication

“Ackles, Murray, the vic’s parents are here. Interro 1,” Captain Morgan bellowed down the hall from his corner office. Decorum wasn’t his best attribute. 

“I fucking hate this part,” Chad murmered as they began walking towards the interrogation room. 

“Well the minute you seem unaffected by destroying some girl’s poor parents’ lives is the day you should retire, dude,” Jared replied. He took a breath, kissing his crucifix for strength before walking into the tense room. Obviously Mr. and Mrs. Castiglione looked wrecked, but the hollow look in their eyes that showed their lack of will to continue is what broke his heart the most.

“I’m Detective Ackles, please call me Jared. That’s Detective Murray, but Chad is fine. We’re not going to waste your time with saying how sorry we are for this tragedy. You’ve no doubt heard it ten thousand times and at this point all you want is answers. That’s all we’re trying to help you with,” he added with his most empathetic smile. His dimples didn’t pop fully out, but the left one winked out just a bit in what Jensen called his, “Get out of jail free dimple;” it got him out of anything remotely uncomfortable in the past.

“Well thank you for being candid with us. You’re right, we’re sick of the platitudes of, ‘Sorry this,’ and, ‘Sorry that,” Mr. Castiglione--Frank, according to the file--said. He offered his hand while keeping his other arm wrapped around his wife, Maria. “How can we help catch this monster who extinguished the light in our lives?”

Jared admired his courage and bravado, but he also was hesitant to proceed too harshly. “If at any time, these questions get too much too soon, or if you need to step out at all, please don’t hesitate. I’ve been NYPD long enough to have seen just about everything so nothing will offend me,” Jared joked. That earned a weak smile from the grieving couple, still wrapped protectively around one another.

“Can you tell me what Gianna was doing in the city?”

“Gigi, please. Gianna was reserved for her bylines when she was a Pulitzer prize winning journalist. That’s what she’d always say. She was interviewing for an internship with the New York Times. Unheard of for a college sophomore to be courted by the paper, but Stanford paid for her to come out here for the week. The paper kept her busy for four days: they gave her an investigative journalist piece as a kind of test run for her tenacity. She hit the ground running. We thought it was a little bit of heavy hitting for a fresh faced kid from California, but she was never one to back down from a challenge”

“What was the story she was working on?” Jared was taking notes in his steno pad as he always did; Chad was recording the interview on his police issued recorder. Always best to have multiple records in case any questions came up later on.

“There had been a drug ring a few years back at some of the more well known college campuses, but they seemed to have dropped off within the past few months. The paper was curious as to what may have happened then versus now. A bunch of kids had ODed but no concrete answers ever came out. Gigi’s brother, our oldest son, had ODed on heroin about three years ago—here actually—so she was keen to jump on the story to stop anything like that from happening again,” Maria spoke quietly, methodically as if each word exerted the last vestiges of strength. Jared couldn’t fault her for that.

“Gigi got an AirBnB in Bay Ridge because it’s supposed to be safe and it’s significantly cheaper than Manhattan. She didn’t mind the subway system, besides the paper set her up pretty well with a stipend for the week and a courtesy car if she needed pickup or dropoff during an unsavory time of day. That’s why we’re so confused as to why she was in that park so late!”

Jared needed to tread lightly here. “A lot of times when kids come to the city, they want to experience all it has to offer, including the partying. Bay Ridge doesn’t have a lot of clubs per say, but plenty of locals where young people get together and entertain themselves in less than legal ways.”

“But that’s just the thing! She’s not old enough to drink, but we’re not naive to think she didn’t have a fake ID; the drugs thing is just totally out of character.”

“Well it is possible that something was slipped into her drink, we’re still investigating and waiting to get the results from the cameras in the area,” Jared relayed the same thing he had been told by TARU. “Do you have any idea where her AirBnB was? It might be helpful to determine a radius of likely haunts.”

Maria jostled her smart phone until she pulled up her daughter’s itinerary. “This doesn’t mean much to me; I know they say the city is a grid so it’s easy to follow, but all these numbers and avenues and streets just don’t compute to me,” she sounded almost apologetic. 

“Do you mind?” Jared asked as he reached for the phone inquiring as to whether he could screenshot the itinerary and send it to himself.

“Whatever you need to do, please.”

Jared looked over the details to see if anything jumped out as he was AirDropping it to his own device when he noticed that the girl’s AirBnB was none other than the same address as his and Jensen’s, just different apartment. Genevieve’s apartment. Jared kept his face stoic as he handed the phone back.

“OK so what we’ll do from here is talk to the neighbors and interview some of her peers at the newspaper. I know she was only planning on being here for a week, so we’re just going to have to hope that she didn’t let the big city lights dim that spark of hers and she was chatty with anyone about what she was working on. That’ll be helpful in a few ways anyway, because then we can try to narrow down who knew what and how they felt about it. I know a lot of this probably doesn’t make sense and I know it’s not going to for a long time, but I promise I will work my damndest to find out what happened to your little girl.”

Frank wiped his eyes with an old fashioned handkerchief, it was embroidered with a traditional cross that was similar to the crucifix on Jared’s own necklace. 

“Faith can be helpful in times like these,” Jared offered, not as an empty statement, but as a man who truly believed it.

Frank looked up and glanced at Jared’s necklace before nodding somberly. “They say God always has a plan, but where’s the plan in taking my baby?”

“I don’t know. Truly I don’t. Maybe two men of faith like ourselves are meant to work through this together to find justice for that angel of yours,” Jared whispered solemnly.

“Got to say, I didn’t peg you for a religious man; cops, no offense, seem a little too low to the ground to see high above.”

“That’s part of the reason I make it a point to look above. Someone’s got to be looking out for me. And I think my husband appreciates whoever’s looking out for me, too,” Jared said feeling comfortable enough to disclose his sexuality with this grieving father.

“Shame you boys can’t get married in the church,” Frank said. 

“We find loopholes,” Jared winked. “Husband is an ADA at the DA’s office and I’ve got some pull in this neighborhood. We found a good priest who performed a ceremony for us and then we did the city hall thing just to be doubly sure. Now we joke that it’ll be twice the headache if we decide we’re sick of each other.”

“You’re a good man, I have confidence that you’re a good detective and you’ll help us find some peace.”

“I can’t make promises; only one Person can do that and you and I both know we ain’t Him. But I can promise that I’ll do my absolute best,” Jared reached out to shake the man’s hand but was not expecting to be pulled into an emotional hug. Jared hugged back with as much empathy as he could muster, he couldn’t imagine losing anyone like these two had.

\----

Jensen got home, didn’t even bother checking the mail, just dragged himself up the stairs. When he got to the door, he saw that it was unlocked. “Huh, maybe Jared took the trash down?” It was very unlikely that either of them left the door unlocked. Call it their double OCD or call it the hazards of the job.

When he walked in, he froze because something, a big something was wrong. All the lights were on, including the fluorescent fixture that came with the apartment and that both men hated. He did a quick survey around the room feeling like a stranger in his own home. He didn’t want to move too much out of risk of contaminating anything before Jared got home. Jared. There’s no way he hadn’t been home yet otherwise he would’ve done exactly what Jensen was about to do.

“Come home now. Emergency. Not good.”

He swiped his phone to send the message and that’s when he noticed their wedding picture was on its side. When he picked it up, he noticed that someone had crudely drawn a crown of thorns around Jensen’s head and the wedding ring was morphed into a nail meant to symbolize the two hands being joined as one. Jensen half expected to see a drawn bullet hole in between his eyes, but instead there was a push pin attached to a note, typed of course, "Rikers ain't fun, I'll tell ya about it soon.”

Jensen dropped the frame as it shattered to the ground and fell to his knees hyperventilating. Counting the minutes til Jared would be home and make everything better. Minutes. Then he’d be OK. Jared just needed to be home. It would be OK.

—


	9. Two Girls Walk Out of a Building

Jared got Jensen’s text during a debriefing meeting with Captain Morgan. As much as he’d love to say, “Family emergency, I have to run,” that wasn’t usually an acceptable tactic with the NYPD. Besides, they had just received the video surveillance from the park and needed to review that. They also requested the video footage at Jared’s building, which was becoming more and more unsettling to him, from the management company to try and piece together a timeline.

“I know you guys just finished with the parents, it looked like they were holding up pretty well considering everything,” Morgan gruffed out.

“The father has moved to the stage of grief called, ‘Really fucking pissed off,’ and his wife remains in a semi-state of shock. I think he’s trying to hold on to the facade of pseudo-vigilante to bear the strength his wife is struggling to find. We’ve seen if before,” Chad finished with a shrug.

“That was my observation, too,” Morgan replied, which surprised Jared and Chad.

“What? Just because you’re two of my lead detectives doesn’t mean I don’t check in on your interrogations and interviews now and then. Need to make sure you’re still worthy of the, ‘Dynamic Duo,’ moniker around here,” Morgan added with a wry laugh. “Dynamic Duo”, however, reminded Jared of the text burning in his pocket. He was part of a more dynamic duo, actually one half of ‘The Golden Couple’ they had been dubbed years prior. 

“Speaking of, Cap, I’ve got kind of an emergency with Jen at home, how long do you think this meeting will take. I mean no offense or insubordination, sir; it’s just unlike him…” Jared trailed off after realizing he was about to say, “Unlike him to sign a text without some inclination of love, whether it be a silly emoji, or something a bit more…..risque.” Sometimes he actually could keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah, yeah, trouble in paradise; I believe that 100% with you two. Regardless, this shouldn’t take long. As we expected, the video footage at the park is dark, grainy, and delayed so it’s basically a glorified flip book of black and white images. Watch it and see for yourself,” Morgan flipped on the archaic TV set. 

True to description, the footage looked like the infamous shots of “Bigfoot” roaming the wilderness, but something caught Jared’s trained detective eye. 

“She was on her phone, but as soon as she got into the park, she removed her headphones and started looking around. Do you think she got a bad vibe or heard something?” He directed the question to his partner, who was usually on the same page about things like this.

“Possible, let’s focus on the background and see if we can see anything unusual. Flickering lights could be a cigarette, cell cam, movement from the moon beams bouncing off a rustled brush,” Chad said as he scooted forward to the monitor. As if that was going to magically bring the images into better focus.

Regardless, Jared followed his ministrations and soon they were both sat within a foot of the screen. 

“There, do you see that movement in the lower left corner, kind of behind her? The forecast that night indicated no wind, which was weird given the snow the day before, remember? The weatherman made some stupid joke that it was the calm after the storm,” Jared mumbled more to himself than anyone else.

“See if we can zoom in on that quadrant of the shot,” Morgan indicated to the tech expert who, up til that point, had been sitting quietly with the equipment.

When the image blew up, it enhanced the quality a bit, but not too much. They didn’t see any weapon or movement until in the next frame, the girl, Gianna, collapsed to the ground as if overtaken by a seizure. 

“Did she have any history of epilepsy? Sometimes the dark can mess with that. Anything like that in the ME’s report?” Chad asked to no one in particular.

“Perfectly healthy as far as we know. Maybe she was tased?” 

“Well if this fucking video wasn’t so shitty, maybe we could’ve seen some kind of taser or other incapacitating device; no offense, Cas,” Jared apologetically tossed to the tech. Cas had been with them for a while and she was used to their outbursts at this point. She knew not to take anything personally.

“Well we know what comes next so let’s see if we can get a glimpse at this guy’s face,” Jared again muttered aloud. A shadowy figure emerged from behind a bush, nothing impressive about his, or her for that matter, gait. Maybe about 6’, dressed in all black, pretty typical. As he stood over Gianna’s still quaking body, Jared could register the panic and helplessness on her face, she couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything except wait for whatever her fate was. 

One gunshot to the forehead, “At least the bastard killed her before desecrating her body,” Jared thought to himself.

Once the blood was starting to pool around her head, the perp removed the nail gun that each LP seemed to carry these days. One of the cons they actually caught fessed up to that little technique. It wasn’t Inglioterra who told them that, though that would’ve been a relief for Jensen, “FUCK, Jensen is going to kill me,” he thought to himself. 

The perp nailed the girls hands together and then he ripped a branch from a nearby tree and arranged it around her head. Jared was fingering his necklace at that point, just feeling uneasy and in need of grounding. The perp snapped a picture of the body and presumably sent it to whomever ordered the hit. Within seconds, the phone rang and the conversation, though silent to them, was obvious. The woman who was killed was not the target. The perp showed all the visible signs of panic, remorse, and spotty searching the area before sprinting the way he had appeared, but not before he made eye contact with a hidden camera snapping a good enough look at his face. At least that’s something.

“OK so three things: who is he, who’d he send the photo to, and who was the actual target, since it obviously was not Gianna Castiglione?”

“That’s your job, detectives, get on it,” Morgan said dismissively.

Now Jared needed to get home and grovel to his husband, not knowing what to expect.

—

What Jared was not expecting was to get to their building to three cruisers from his own precinct lights flashing outside with Jensen talking with one of the officers, Reagan, if Jared was great. He wasn’t thinking too clearly, though, because his husband had his hand in a tourniquet that was already soaked in blood and he was talking with NYPD.

How the fuck did no one think to tell me three fucking cruisers were being dispatched to my address? Jared fumed internally.

He shouldered his way through the lemmings who had gathered to see what had happened. When green eyes met his, Jared wasn’t sure whether to brace for a swing, being cursed out, or literally anything his hurting husband might be feeling. Within seconds, he was filled with 6’2” of solid muscle and familiar aftershave that was trembling with soft sobs. Jensen didn’t cry. Ever.

“Baby, what the fuck happened?”

Between hiccups and gasps for breath, Jensen filled his husband in. Apartment was unlocked, all lights were on as if someone was looking for something, wedding picture defaced with the LP MO written all over it. The only thing that kept Jared from totally freaking out was that the gash on Jensen’s hand was apparently from dropping the picture frame in a panic and no one had actually, physically at least, hurt his husband.

“Jesus Christ. Jen, I am so sorry. I was stuck in a meeting with Morgan about this case and I got here as soon as I could. Shit! I can’t believe no one told me they were dispatched here! Who’s the sergeant on the scene?” Jared was fuming. 

“Jay, it’s fine, I couldn’t get you, I did the next best thing. I figured you got tied up and would get here as soon as you could. It’s fine, I’m fine. Well, I’ll need a few stitches and a handful of Xanax, but I’ll be fine.”

Jared clung to Jensen’s still shaking shoulders before kissing his temple and seeking out the sergeant, coolly, which he was proud of.

“Sergeant Espinoza, I’m…..”

“Hey Detective, sorry we didn’t give you the heads-up, you were in with the Captain and we frankly didn’t know what to do,” he replied.

“No, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not. The personal part of me wants to rip everyone apart, but academy training tells me that everything went as it should. So what can you gather?”

“Not much right now, CSU is inside sweeping for prints and that boy of yours needs to get to Langone for an exam on his hand, so why don’t you focus on that right now. We’ve got your number so we’ll call you, both of you probably, in for questioning and timelines once he’s checked out. That’s your priority, Detective,” Espinoza said.

“Don’t I outrank you?” Jared asked with a forced laugh.

“Maybe so, but you’re here as a concerned husband, a civilian, so get outta here,” he tossed right back.

Jared climbed into the ambulance with his husband as another text chimed on his phone. This time a photo and this time from Chad. 

Subject: You ain’t gonna like this.

“Fucking great,” Jared bemoaned. Then he opened the picture and was proven right like a ton of bricks.

“Footage outside vic’s address DOI (Date of Incident):”

It showed Gianna and Genevieve walking out laughing together.


	10. An Impatient Patient

Jared, for better or worse, decided not to share that tidbit with his husband just yet. He was pretty sure Jensen was going into shock: the stress of the home invasion, the not so subtle threat against him, and slicing his hand badly enough to warrant at least a few stitches. He’d tell him later. Or while Jensen was on painkillers….either one.

Jensen refused the ambulance until Jared scoffed at him and said, “What you’re going to walk the 20 blocks to Langone? Or you’re going to get on the MTA with an open wound susceptible to God knows what?” Jensen smirked as if already expecting this reaction.

“Last I checked, you were a cop and have cop friends who have access to lights and sirens.”

“Touche,” Jared replied before waving Officer Espinoza over. They made it to the hospital within 7 minutes.

\--

Jared had texted their friend, Justin, from the car; he was a doctor in the ER, after all. Maybe he could expedite their treatment. If not, Jared had his badge and, though he didn’t like to abuse his power, he wasn’t above flashing it to get his husband seen faster.

Luckily, that was unnecessary and Justin all but greeted them in the crowded emergency department. “Jenny, what’d ya do man? Felt bad for the rest of us average-looking denizens and decided to scar up that pretty skin of yours?” Justin said jokingly despite knowing what had happened.

“Oh fuck off, Hartley. Even with scars, I’d still turn heads,” Jensen mumbled back from where his face was nestled into Jared’s neck. 

“Humble as always, Jen; let’s check you out in triage 4,” Justin’s personality transformed to his doctor persona, not unlike when Jared flipped the switch.

Justin did a perfunctory check of the wound and tsked under his breath, “You’re definitely going to need seven or eight stitches to keep the skin together as it heals; you’re lucky it’s not that deep, though. I’ll send the nurse in to numb it. Heads-up, it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker,” Justin empathized.

“Dude, I just sliced my hand with a jagged old picture frame, I’m already in pain.”

“Jen, it’s a needle we have to inject directly into the wound,” Justin answered feeling guilty, especially when the remaining color drained from Jensen’s face. “I’ll have her give you some Ativan, too, pal. Hang in there,” Justin clapped Jensen’s shoulder as his patient turned big, pleading eyes up to his husband. Jared, strong as ever, just stood by like the bastion of composure and support he always was when Jensen needed him. Justin had known them for three years now after stitching Jared up after a bust gone wrong and he was always amazed by how much they completed each other. “Lucky bastards,” he said fondly to himself.

\--

After the area was numb, Jensen was high, and his hand was sewn up with 10, not seven or eight--fuck you very much, Hartley--stitches, they spent another hour or so in the triage unit. Jensen was in perfect health so they weren’t worried about any adverse reactions or dramatic changes to his condition, but the hospital policy was enough to drive even the most level-headed person crazy. 

“So when are you planning on telling me what that text said on the way here?” Jensen said without opening his eyes where he was laying down on the hospital bed.

Jared gulped and tried, emphasis on tried, to play cool. “Whatcha talkin’ bout?”

Jensen smirked, eyes still closed, “The one you got when you thought I was looking the other way that made you clench the phone so hard your knuckles turned white and your jaw did that sexy tick thing that drives me crazy. Good thing I was in agony, ‘wise I’d have jumped you right there,” Jensen said...the medication making his tongue a little looser than he’d probably like.

“Jen, I really don’t want to talk about this while you’re in the ER, more to the point, while you’re hopped up on whatever is in that IV,” Jared tried to delay the inevitable.

“It’s hospital grade novocaine that is so controlled that it makes me look like the most laid back person in the world,” Jensen said, finally opening his eyes. “Tell me.”

Jared scrubbed his face with his left hand, wedding ring catching the fluorescent lighting above Jensen’s bed.

“We got surveillance back from our building, which by the way, we’re moving as soon as financially possible,” Jared said...only half joking.

“And….babe, you know there’s only one time I don’t mind things being drawn out and we are decidedly not in any of the positions that fits that scenario. Spill.”

“Looks like Jennifer, Genevieve, whatever knew the victim, Gianna. Gianna was apparently subletting Jennifer’s apartment from her via AirBnB according to the victim’s parents. What I don’t understand, in a laundry list of things I don’t understand, is how Jennifer was able to play innocent so smoothly at the crime scene and why the two women would be all chummy,” Jared said, partially thinking out loud.

“Maybe it was an in-person check in for the AirBnB, not everyone does the drop-box thing; besides, recent events aside, our building is typically secure.” 

Jared glared at him.

“I said recent events aside,” Jensen rolled his eyes.

“So yeah, that’s what it said, so now I need to interview our dear neighbor for what feels like the 18th time within 48 hours and I’m likely going to have to head straight back to the precinct as soon as you’re released. Where do you want to go to recover, by the way? Our place is sealed off while CSU investigates.”

“What are the chances you’ll let me stay at a hotel?” Jensen asked already knowing the answer. The reply he received was a snort and several suggestions.

“I was thinking that we could call up Tom and Mike, they’re not far in Sunset Park and Mike already know's what's going on. Chris is a little further away in Fort Hamilton, and then there’s Danneel but she’s in Park Slope,” Jared offered the options to Jensen.

“Why did you even ask if it was a multiple choice game?” Jensen asked with mirth. 

Jared just winked at him. Jensen sighed. “Let’s call Tom and Mike; like you said, Mike already knows what happened. He was one of the detectives at the 76 I worked with. That and we trust him and Tommy anyway. Their place is a little.....sterile....but it’ll do for a little while.” Jared and Jensen knew Mike through his former position at the 68th precinct with Jared; that’s also how they met Mike’s partner, Tom, who was a Legal said attorney. Jensen and Tom often did not talk shop with each other; both for ethical and personal reasons. Sides of the law aside, they were actually really good friends.

The two men sat in companionable silence for a while, Jensen just resting his eyes as Jared rubbed his thumb back and forth over the uninjured hand. Tom and Mike arrived an hour later, both giving Jared a reassuring hug while Jensen snoozed. Jared nodded towards the door and the two other men followed him.

“You caught yourself a weird one, that’s for sure,” Mike said after Jared regaled them with the version of events that he was able to divulge. NYPD or not, there were some details that needed to remain in his and his partner’s police report. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mike, it was that he didn’t trust anyone with this case now that Jensen was directly involved. 

Mike seemed to pick up on the, “Need to know only,” vibe emanating from Jared and he didn’t ask anything further. Tom jumped in, taking advantage of the natural lull in the conversation, to tell Jared that the guest room was all made up.

“Well I’m real glad you guys invested in a house rather than being a rent rat like the rest of us schmucks,” Jared laughed. “Stay tuned for an endless barrage of questions about how to become homeowners once this all blows over.”

“You got it,” Tom laughed in reply.

When Jared returned to Jensen’s room, he was greeted by a pretty little pout and big, owlish eyes that were basically pleading to be released. It was fortuitous that Justin arrived shortly thereafter with the discharge paperwork.

“Let’s go, baby. Welling Resort and Spa awaits,” Jared said with a shit-eating grin.

“Only the finest for you, Jenny,” Tom winked.

“Seriously, fuck you guys,” Jensen said with a sly smirk. God he was happy to get out of there, even if it wasn’t home. He knew Tom and Mike’s place was comfortable and he’d be content enough, it was just missing one amenity. Jared.


	11. Scare Tactics

Jared strode into the precinct all shoulders and stoicism, refusing to belie any of the emotions simmering--closely--to the surface. He was pissed off, confused, pissed off about being confused, worried about his husband, and desperately wanted to be able to go home. 

“How’s Jenny holding up?” Chad greeted him with a firm handshake and a shoulder pat.

“He’s fine, some stitches, recovering at Tom and Mike’s until we can get back home, any idea when that’ll be by the way?” Jared asked only half joking. He knew that CSU had to clear the apartment before they returned, that wasn’t a detective’s job. 

“Tom and Mike’s? Dude you can both stay at my place or did you forget that I’m in the process of moving out?” Chad quirked an eyebrow.

Jared sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, feeling like an idiot because, yes, he absolutely forgot that Chad was moving in with his fiancee in Lower Manhattan. Jared was kind of bummed about the move when Chad told him, mainly because he knew the commute to Brooklyn South would get real old real fast and Chad would, no doubt, transfer to a Manhattan precinct. It made more sense for him, though, and for that Jared was happy for his friend. Sophia had a 2-BR unit in a rent-controlled loft that would have cost a small fortune if it wasn’t left to her by her grandfather. It was certainly an upgrade from Chad’s bachelor pad studio; then again, that was more than he and Jensen had at the moment. 

“Um, yeah I did forget, actually,” he responded sheepishly and scratching at his nape, feeling guilty that he had forgotten something so monumental in his partner’s life.

“No big, man. I get that things were kind of crazy. But seriously, I’m never there, like literally ever. You’ve heard me bitch about paying rent this last month because the only thing left there is my bed and the TV--if only for the rare night I don’t feel like heading uptown. The toilet might need a brush and the shower should probably be sprayed down because they haven’t been used, but for real,” Chad tossed his keys at Jared without second guessing his offer at all.

“Shit, man. I owe you one. Not that we’re not grateful to Tom and Mike, but their place is a bit….modern, even by Jensen’s standard. He’ll lose his mind sooner rather than later staring at all that white and chrome, which means I will lose my mind even sooner,” he chuckled before pulling Chad into a proper hug this time. 

Now that that was settled--he knew Jensen would jump at the offer, if only to be able to be with Jared, preferably alone, again--they had work to do.

\--

“OK so I need to interview Jennifer, again, and this time I think she needs to be brought into the station. She’s been playing us so far and that ends now,” Jared said--arms crossed and chest heaving.

“Not a good idea,” Morgan gruffed out from behind where he and Chad were standing at the board. “She already knows you, she’s already lied to you, she’s already established some kind of unknown game with you; Murray should do the interview,” he concluded.

The two partners shared a look of resigned acceptance, knowing it was the right thing to do. Besides, Jared was due for his own interview in Interro 3; his victim statement. 

God he hated that word.

\--

“I was here at the precinct reviewing the facts of the case as we knew them at the time. We had the two witnesses, Cortese and Ritchie, who claimed they just stumbled upon the body. We now know that at least Cortese was lying. We’re unsure about Ritchie’s involvement; but the circumstances are certainly questionable. Jensen, that’s my husband--it’ll get confusing if I refer to him by his last name since it’s mine also, that OK?” Jared asked the interviewer from IAB.

“That’s fine; we know who he is anyway. ADA at KCDA right? Conviction Review?” IAB said, Montgomery, apparently.

“Uh, yeah. He was in major crimes before that but CRU is where he’s wanted to be for a while. Anyway, he actually just received a file reopen request on the Inglioterra case because the perp, sorry alleged perp, is claiming innocence and a botched investigation. Jensen was upset about it but he hasn’t really learned much since the case was literally dropped on his desk the other day, Friday afternoon from the sound of it. We went out to dinner Saturday night and that’s when Gino, the owner, gave us the name Giusseppe Inglioterra as an earlier patron who was talking about Castiglione’s murder in the park. Jensen flipped out, understandably, because this is the same guy who is supposedly in Rikers where Jensen indirectly put him based upon a solid investigation,” Jared huffed out.

“You sure it was a solid investigation?” Montgomery quirked an eyebrow.

“The fuck kind of question is that? Jen doesn’t talk with me about details of a case unless he has even the slightest uncertainty. He talked about that case with me only in passing where I recognized the name.”

“Sorry, had to ask.”

Yeah he knew.

“Anyway, Saturday night we stayed in to review some details and then went to KCDA Sunday midmorning. You can check the logs and interview the people we ran into. Actually, come to think of it, we bumped into Cortese there. Apparently she’s engaged to a newer ADA there, Paul Engloterra,” Jared continued.

Montgomery choked on his water. “Paul….Engloterra? Are you sure that was his name?”

“Yeah I remember it because it’s so similar to Inglioterra, the one who seemingly got us into this whole shitstorm.”

“Detective, Paolo Inglioterra was a CI for us a few years ago. He was a senior member in the Castle but he disappeared and we were never able to track him down. What are the chances this is your same guy? Just reinvented and refurbished as an ADA in the same bureau where his brother, yes his brother, is being reviewed?”

Jared clenched his jaw a few times because, yeah, it would all fit together. He needed Jen, for many reasons, but he needed access to KCDA and they were notoriously tight with their files. He knew his husband would help him out to the fullest extent that the law and his ethics allowed; Jared just had to hope that was enough to warrant a subpoena to do a more thorough search.

\--

Paul was running through the park when Jennifer called him; she was always calling him. If they were actually a couple and not playing pretend he might actually think it was sweet. Instead, he got anxious every time she called him with some other detail to keep track of. He should’ve known partnering up with the snake, and later as a plant in the Ackles’ building, was a risk.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answered curtly.

“Who did you have break into their apartment? Looks like the Pretty One was discharged from the hospital. The Big One is back at the precinct,” the voice came through the receiver.

Right. The scare tactic mission. Like he knew the name of one of the newer recruits, it was just an initiation for the kid anyway. He flipped through his mental rolodex before, miraculously, remembering his name. “Diego something….um….Diego Kase.”

“Well you’d better hope Mr. Kase is prepared for the wrath of one half of Brooklyn’s Golden Couple. Apparently, the fairer Mr. Ackles’ injury warranted a full fledged meltdown from the other one. But the scary kind, the kind where it’s brewing behind his eyes. At least that’s what Denison said,” she continued to rasp out.

“Denison, right. The detective you caught snorting coke off a stripper’s ass at that pretentious speakeasy you like in the Village? How long are you holding that over his head for,” Paul asked, kind of impressed with her.

“As long as the camera holds out. Besides it’s a nice break from the footage I’ve got of Ackles.”


	12. A Substitute Home (NC17 Chapter)

Jared and Jensen walked into Chad’s apartment not quite sure what to expect, but grateful nonetheless. It was, as described, stripped bare. His bed was pushed to the side, “Without sheets, so bring your own to bang on,” he had said crudely and the TV was sat on a rickety old milkcrate that Jared suspected came from the street. But there was no evidence of alleyway residue so he kept that to himself.

Jensen plopped onto the mattress and tossed his scarce overnight bag (that Jared had haphazardly tossed together the night of the invasion) in the nearby corner. He dramatically flopped onto his back and from where Jared was standing, he could see Jensen staring intently at the ceiling as if deep in thought. Before Jared could ask what was going on inside that stupidly pretty head, Jensen spoke matter-of-factly.

“We are not discussing anything remotely involving the case for the next 24 hours. We are not doing anything remotely involving the case for just as long. And,” Jensen sat up predatorily, hunched on both elbows, “I am going to fuck you with everything I’ve got to prove to you that I’m still here, I’m OK, and we’ve still got each other.” He added that part with the eyebrow lift, the one that said, “Get your ass over here, now.” 

Jared didn’t need to be told twice. He started undoing his pants while Jensen leaned over to their bag: Jared forgot their toothbrushes, but managed to snag the lube. God he loved him. 

When their mouths crashed, it was messy, mostly exchanging oxygen in an unplanned sharing of life, proof that they were alive and together. In between the humid panting, during which Jensen’s scruffy jaw scraped against Jared’s own five-o-clock shadow, Jensen wrapped his sinful lips around his husband’s lobe. Jensen all but licked into the shell of his ear, “ I know you didn’t pack sheets so we’re fucking on this mattress...I don’t give a fuck what Chad said; sides,” he whispered, “He doesn’t have to know.” 

Jared pulled his forehead away from his husband’s to meet those crinkly green eyes he loved so much before scoffing, “I am 230% positive Chad knew what was going to happen as soon as he tossed me the keys.” 

Jensen grabbed the back of Jared’s neck and they continued their assault on each other’s mouths. Despite how aggressive their passion began, it turned slow, sensual, almost languorous. 

Jensen slipped his hand to Jared’s nape while tracing his husband’s jaw, that jaw he had memorized, with his thumb. His kisses turned into pecks to the corners alternated with tangling their tongues together in the choreographed dance of years of familiarity. Jared held onto his husband’s hips and just slowly swayed their growing erections together. Jared’s hands slipped behind to grip Jensen’s ass, perfectly shaped for his hands: the ideal combination of firm and plump. Jensen knew he had an excellent ass, Jared went so far as to measure the actual curvature of his spine to the swell one night. Math geek that he was. But Jared never passed up an opportunity to worship it for the artwork it was. While Jensen always topped, it didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy Jared’s fingers, or God that tongue, playing at his hole. But tonight, Jensen needed to be the one to lavish his husband with all the emotions he was overcome with. 

Jensen nipped at Jared’s bottom lip, swollen pink from their heat, and pulled Jared by his necklace to the bed. He went willingly, legs becoming entangled as they kicked off the remainder of their clothes. They rolled so that Jared was underneath this beautiful man he called his. Jared’s eyes blinked slowly once, twice and then finally focused on the eyes staring adoringly below at him. The moment was broken, albeit briefly, when Jensen snorted out a half laugh, which was more of a choked off groan given his state of arousal and the view beneath him.

“Jen, ‘mnot a self conscious person, but you gigglin’ like this while I’m all spread out under you, is makin’ me a lil insecure,” Jared husked out a laugh that was equally choked off. 

“Just can’t believe you packed lube but not toothbrushes. I feel like our oral health would benefit given the things we get up to with our mouths, kid.” Jensen only called Jared ‘Kid’ when they were in a position where they were reminded of how long they’d been together. How they’d gone from gangly adolescents to figuring out what they meant to each other. It always made Jared’s eyes melt a little, which just made Jensen’s heart melt in response. 

“So we better make sure it gets used to make up for my poor planning,” Jared smiled, dimples popping out. He spread his legs in open invitation and arched an eyebrow that impressed even Jensen.

Jensen, multitalented bastard that he was, captured Jared’s mouth in a hot kiss at the same time he lubed up his finger and began to play at Jared’s hole. The response was exactly what he wanted. Jared’s mouth opened in a gasp as he was opened from below, allowing Jensen more access to map his husband’s mouth. 

They moved in silence, the only sounds their guttural moans, whispers of pleasure, and murmurs of, “Fuck, shit, and yeah.” 

When Jensen worked Jared open on three fingers and his husband’s face was blissed out, mouth lagging, head invitingly tilted to the side just begging for Jensen to latch onto that Adam’s apple, bangs plastered to his sweat sheen face, he decided Jared was ready. 

Still, in the sounds of their lovemaking, with the lights flickering in from the Brooklyn sky outside, Jensen entered his husband’s tight, wet, always perfect passage. Jared’s breath caught in his throat, Jensen stilled, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the hollow of his husband’s throat where sweat beaded up accentuating the deep swallows he was taking. Relishing in being filled with his husband’s strength, his love, his essence.

Their eyes, both almost black with lust, shared a heated glance, sharing an imperceptible nod to keep going. 

Jensen’s movements were slow. Deep plunges into his husband’s willing body, and then a slow drag out to hold his hole open with the head of his cock. Then he’d dive back in for more. Jared wrapped long legs around his husband’s waist, linking his ankles behind that perfect ass and using his heels to drive Jensen deeper. His arms looped under Jensen’s biceps so he could trace patterns of love on his freckled back. His head remained cradled in one of Jensen’s hands while Jensen’s other hand alternated between caressing Jared’s chest and jacking him in time with his forward thrusts. 

As they moved, slowly and in sync as always, towards their releases, their breathing became more ragged, their moans more animalistic, their respective clinging to each other tightening. As Jared’s hole began to twitch with his impending orgasm, Jensen moved a hand to his husband’s hip to grip tightly as he sped up his powerful thrusts.

A few more snaps of his hips and Jared baring his neck for an unspoken request to be claimed, Jensen latched onto his husband’s delicate skin and sucked a claiming mark as he filled his husband with the power of his love. 

As they came down from their highs, they rested foreheads against the other, letting their noses tangle in a sweet gesture of what they refused to call cuddling. 

“I love you, Jay. So fucking much.”

“I love you most, baby. Don’t you forget it.”


	13. 24 Hours Later

24 hours went by and they kept their promise to not discuss the case. Jensen had enough PTO accrued to take some time off and Jared had taken some of his FMLA days. They decided, together, that they’d take the rest of the week to ground themselves. They both kept their work phones on and worked on the case remotely, which worked out better without prying eyes. 

They checked with Chad if it would be OK if they made his studio a little more homey, to which he replied, “I don’t know how many other ways I can say it, I live there .02% of the time. ‘Sfar as I am concerned, it’s your home til CSU clears your apartment, which I hear should be within the next week, FYI.”

They ran some errands around Bay Ridge, swinging into TJ Maxx and Target to buy cheap curtains, linens, towels, and toiletries. Just what they needed to keep them comfortable. Luckily, with their respective tenure in their careers, they were able to access their files remotely. Now came the work.

“So, I say we start with the victim. Parents said she was an intern from Stanford working with the investigative unit; smart kid. 3.9 according to the transcripts we got from the school. Dance team captain, newspaper editor, scheduled to graduate early. Parents also said her older brother ODed a few years back, hence her interest in this matter,” Jared dove right in. It was no wonder he made lead detective.

“Should we talk with people at the NYT? See if anyone knew anything?” Jensen asked.

“We pulled a list of contacts from her computer that her parents had at home. Everything was synced on Google Docs so we’ve got a spreadsheet of her interview subjects—mostly aliases, but something—and her two supervisors at the paper. They’re scheduling interviews at the precinct now. They all seem pretty upset by the news. Must’ve been one helluva kid,” Jared murmured; mostly thinking out loud. 

“All right so you start with that lead, I’ll dig into that new ADA.” A memory triggered in Jared. Shit. He had totally forgotten about what Montgomery had said.

“Fuck, Jen. I meant to tell you but then everything happened. Apparently Paul Engloterra was an alias used by Paola Inglioterra when he was a CI for the department. He’s Joe’s brother,” Jared waited for that to sink in with his husband.

“Oh…..Kay. So if this is the same guy, how’d he get into KCDA? I need to talk with Patrick in HR. Maybe if I explain the situation….actually, wait. The DA didn’t like the similarities in names, maybe I can get him to sign off on a low key internal investigation,” Jensen said in a small moment of victory.

“That’s actually brilliant. If the DA felt iffy about him, though, I really wonder how he slipped through the cracks.”

“There’s over 200 ADAs in a class. They burn out fast. They’re not all going to be Harvard Law 1%,” Jensen shrugged.

“Fair point.” 

Their deliberating was interrupted by Jared’s work phone. “Ackles,” he answered without looking at the ID. Chad.

“Man, you won’t believe this. We picked up Cortese for public intoxication last night. She finally sobered up, but she’s at the precinct despite trying to toss cash at the arresting officers. That went over real well. You wanna come down here and sit in on the interro?”

“I’ll be there in five.” Jared ended the call and was halfway changed before he called over his shoulder to his baffled husband. “Cortese got arrested; ‘parently she got drunk off her ass in public last night and got hauled in. We might’ve finally caught a break.” He leaned over and caught Jensen’s lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll be back in a bit. Keep doing your lawyer thing. Maybe reach out to whomever you think can help in your office. I’ll keep my phone on.” 

—

Jennifer couldn’t believe her luck. She’d been out with the girls like usual and didn’t drink more than normal. Maybe someone drugged her? No. No one ever had tried to mess with her before. Maybe the training and not eating enough carbs had something to do with it. Yeah, that was more likely. She stopped in her thoughts when the door to the interrogation room opened and the blonde detective came in. He wasn’t necessarily bad looking, it’s just that she could admit she liked looking at Ackles. 

“So. Miss Cortese, you had one helluva night. Do you want an attorney? I have to ask. Legal thing.”

“You can call me Gen, I didn’t do anything wrong so I don’t need an attorney,” she huffed out in annoyance.

“Great. Then we can get started. Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Joey Inglioterra,” he started.

OK so that wasn’t how she expected this conversation to go. She had to be smart; luckily she was a trained actress.

“There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Joey used to hang around my group when we were at NYU. Well, Joey wasn’t at NYU but he was a regular at all our haunts so we got to know each other fairly well, I guess.” She began with the truth. Well, part of it.

“Mhmmm. Are you aware that he’s currently in Rikers,” in her defense she feigned wide-eyed innocence. 

“So that’s what happened to him? We had heard rumors that he was a bad guy, but wow. You’re sure?”

He made a show of looking at his file on the table . As of last night at 1900, he was accounted for in his cell. Ya see, when we hear a name dropped of a con, we have to take prompt action. Especially since he was rumored to have ties to the recent murder in Owls Head. And I probably don’t have to tell you that his track record ain’t exactly pretty.” He snapped his fingers as if putting something together. “Wait a minute, you were at Owls Head that day weren’t you?” 

“Well yeah. It’s a popular running spot. I don’t see what that has to do with me getting drunk last night,” she was still holding it together, almost suspiciously so. 

He laughed and said, “Oh! It doesn’t, that was just a fortuitous coincidence because we were going to interview you anyway. Ya see, your name keeps popping up,” he glanced to the two-way mirror where he saw activity. He locked eyes with his partner then back to Jennifer. 

Unfortunately, she caught that movement. 

“And the fact that your partner’s husband got injured, indirectly, by a break-in has nothing to do with it,” she questioned with an overly microbladed eyebrow reaching her hairline. 

“Interesting. How’d you know about that?” 

Shit. Had they not told her about it? She had to rally, fast. 

“Look. Why don’t you let Ackles come in here since I know he’s on the other side of that mirror and we can all chat about what we know,” she smiled sweetly.

Jared came in without pause and sat right across from her. Legs splayed wide and arms crossed over his impressive chest. Casual, but intimidating. Always an effective combination.

“How is the Mr. by the way?” She asked innocently.

“Why don’t you tell us how you know that?”

Another laugh, this time almost flippant. “You boys aren’t very good about closing your blinds. Day or night. Speaking of, didn’t peg you for the bottom,” she added as if they were joking.

Jared didn’t even miss a beat. “Honey, you’ve seen my husband. You know what he looks like, right? Now imagine what I see underneath the clothes,” meanwhile Chad was choking on his tongue behind him.

“So it sounds like you’ve got a bit of a voyeurism streak. That might actually be helpful. Any chance you saw the break in? Or rather, did you do anything about it?”

“I assumed one of you had come home when I saw the lights flash on. They’re really fucking bright and I like to relax by candlelight so I notice when a fucking spotlight flips on across the alley. As for seeing anyone? Again, I assumed it was one of you. You’re both over 6’ so I assume he was about the same height. He had on a black hoodie so I figured it was you, home from a run,” she continued as if it were completely normal to know their routines.

He scrubbed a hand down his jaw in practiced frustration and said, “Creepy stalking aside, did you see anything?” 

“I saw your pretty, toppy husband pull out his phone and cut his hand. I assumed he contacted the police, which he did. So no harm, no foul,” she lisped out. 

Again, Jared let the comment about their sex life go. 

“Fine. You’re free to go on a warning this time for the intoxication since it was a nonviolent first offense. But, Ms. Castiglione, I’d suggest retaining a lawyer and sticking around.”

“What did you call me?” Jennifer’s breath caught and she tried not to let her panic show. 

Jared just locked eyes with her, jaw firm, eyebrow inquisitive. “Castiglione. That is your birth name right? Cortese was mommy’s maiden name? I think you changed it when you were emancipated at 16. Something about wanting to be your own person outside of daddy’s mob family.”

She was almost hyperventilating now.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh. I think I do. See you soon, Genevieve,” he said. Adding air quotes to the name.


	14. Now What

Paul was sat in his cubicle when Jensen approached. He overheard several paralegals and admins tripping all over themselves saying hello to him. In addition to being one of the most talented ADAs at the agency, he was unnaturally beautiful. Not that Paul could ever allow himself to think that. That was wrong. That was what got him in trouble in the first place.

“Paul, do you have a minute? The DA asked me to brief you on some of the details of the Inglioterra review. I was down here grabbing something from the mart and figured I’d swing by,” he said holding up a bag from the lobby store, which was ridiculously overpriced but a godsend when he forgot food.

Paul made sure his mouth was closed the whole time Jensen spoke. He couldn’t believe that the DA himself had requested Jensen to seek him out for this case….out of all of them they could’ve selected him for….this one? Only part of him was starting to get suspicious about the timing, but the deep yearning to spend more time with this man was overwhelming and he found himself sputtering out that he’d love to. “Jesus, Inglioterra, he didn’t ask you on a date, for fuck sake,” he scolded himself...using his real name since no one could hear his internal thoughts.

“Great. Why don’t you finish up whatever you’re doing and come up to me around 2 p.m.? I’ll let Diane at the front desk know to expect you,” Jensen smiled before walking away. Paul allowed himself to lean back and admire the view, careful not to linger too long lest his secret be suspected. Not that anyone would care apparently; Ackles was the Boy Wonder after all.

\--

Jensen got back to his desk and tossed the bag of Cheez-its in his emergency stash drawer. They were just a ruse to pop by Engloterra unexpectedly to see if he could catch him off guard enough to decipher anything duplicitous. With the exception of startled brown eyes and his breath catching in his throat, Jensen didn’t see anything suspicious. Then again, if this guy was LP turned CI turned “ADA”, he’d have to be damn good. And careful.

“Meeting with PE at 2 p.m. You got anything? <3 ” Jensen texted his husband and rubbed his temples. Jared’s reply came within seconds, as it almost always did.

“Apparently JC thinks we’re hot when we fuck, can’t believe I bottom, and saw an intruder but did nothing about it,” the blue bubble popped up.

Jensen felt himself turn red in embarrassment, then with anger that their privacy had been violated. Then again, he supposed it was their own fault that they left the blinds open. No, he wasn’t blaming themselves.

“Has she seen your ass? Be a damn shame not to drill that <3,” Jensen replied cheekily.

“I’ll hold you to it. Chinese for dinner?” 

“Sounds good, ly.”

\--

Jared tossed his phone on his desk and stood up to stretch out the tension that was forming in his trap. 

Just then Chad walked by and tossed a file on Jared’s desk. “Seems like Cortese has been calling a cell that traces back to the DA’s office an awful lot. Seems a bit sloppy for her,” he muttered. 

“Maybe she thought the number couldn’t be traced back to KCDA. There’s like 2000 phones outta there, she probably just assumed they recycled the numbers with employee turnover. That could be what it is for all we know,” Jared shrugged but looked the dates and times over.

IT had done a thorough search going back to 2017 when the drug ring started in town. Cortese’s calls to KCDA only began a few months prior. Jared made a note to cross reference with Jensen about the start date of the new ADAs. He thought it had been in November after the elections but wanted to double check. Before that, she didn’t have any suspicious calls except to one that was at weird times of night. Then again, she was still a college student and 2 a.m. nights were pretty standard. Still, he was curious about it. The calls stopped around the time Inglioterra went away. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

Jared tried the number, it rang four times before clicking over to voicemail. In Italian. The only thing he understood was the name. Giuseppe Inglioterra. Where was that fucking phone? Evidence? Could it have been under his nose all this time?

“Murray!” he hollered across the station where Chad was talking with the desk sergeant. When they made eye contact, he waved his partner over. He trusted the precinct, but there was only so much information that could or should be distributed carelessly. Besides, Denison seemed to be perking up more than usual lately whenever Jared was around. And he knew he wasn’t interested in him, if not for the fact that Jared made it no secret where his heart belonged, but that Denison had quite the reputation as a playboy with the fairer sex.

Chad approached Jared’s desk with a pensive look, “Sup? You don’t yell often, ‘least here, I’m sure you scream plenty for Jenny now that I know…” Chad...always with the decorum.

“Jesus Christ, Murray. If you finish that sentence I will make you watch us,” Jared said teasingly. “Anyway, I need to know where the evidence for the Inglioterra case wound up.” Chad looked at him like he was kind of an idiot.

“Well…..considering it wasn’t our case, I imagine it’s at the 76’s evidence warehouse,” Chad left off the, “Moron,” that was threatening to slip out. 

Right, the 76.

“I’ll call Mike and see if he can meet me over there. Thanks, man,” Jared said already texting Mike about the development. 

“That’s it? Man you’re easy….which I’m sure J……”

Jared walked away before he heard the rest of Chad’s predictable jab.

\--

As Jared walked into the 76th precinct’s warehouse, he received a text from the CSU tech who was overseeing their apartment sweep. “Good to go back home; place is clean.” Thank fuck, Jared sighed happily. Chad’s place was certainly better than Tom and Mike’s, but he missed their home...despite the leftover bad feeling he was sure would be there. And God he missed their bed. And God he missed the loveseat in their bedroom that Jensen would ream him over. He remembered one time that Jensen nailed his prostate with impressive accuracy on every thrust and Jared came without a hand on him. The come stain remained there despite several attempts at washing it. It was covered with a throw blanket now and thus far, they’d been lucky that no one noticed it. Then again, it was in their bedroom so not much chance of seeing it. Which made him think of a certain someone...fuck she must’ve gotten an eyeful. I wonder who else did, he thought afterwards with an appropriate level of embarrassment. \

He texted Jensen to which the reply was immediate, “Leaving office early, grabbing stuff from Chad’s, meet you at home. ‘Member what I said about your ass. Ly.” Jared twitched and clenched in his jeans.

\--

Mike was leaning against the building wrapping up a phone call as Jared lumbered up to him. They shook hands silently while Mike signed off with a, “OK, yeah. I love you, too.” Ah yes, his other half.

“Everything OK with Tommy?”

“Yeah, stuck with his case. Apparently his office was subpoenaed by KCDA’s CRU in response to his appeal on behalf of Joey. Poor guy was just given the file last week and it’s already given him a huge headache,” Mike said not knowing what he just said.

“Joey? His client is Joey? Happen to know the last name?” Jared said, panic rising.

“It’s Italian but sounds British if that makes any sense. I don’t know, man. Not for you to worry about, it’ll be my headache to deal with at home. You know how that goes. Anyway, what can I do for you, man?” Mike replied not picking up on his friend’s unease.

“About that. I need your help so I can hack into your boyfriend’s client’s phone so I can help my husband on the case that put the aforementioned client in prison,” Jared said monotonously.

Mike blinked once, twice, and then paled with understanding. “You mean Jensen is the A…”

“ADA on Joey nee Giuseppe Inglioterra’s case? Yep. How long has Tom had it?” Jared asked dreading the answer.

“Since last Friday I think. So maybe two weeks? Jensen?” Mike asked, equally uneasy and not sure how to tread.

Jared sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and blew his bangs off of his forehead, looking above for some guidance as to what to do next.

“I think the four of us need to start some ‘Conflict of Interest’ paperwork between our respective agencies and let IAB know what we’ve stumbled into. I guess it’s safe to say you can’t help me out now, hm?” Jared asked teasingly, hoping against all hope that Mike would pretend this conversation happened after seizing the phone.

Mike just smiled sadly and shook his head.

No then.


	15. A Very Welcome Home (NC17 Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NC-17

Jared had never been happier to hear the irritating beeping noise of the gate at their building. He made sure the gate latched, triply, behind him and did a quick detective’s look around the lobby. Nothing out of place as if nothing unusual happened. He shook off the bad vibes and turned his attention towards the stairs and, most importantly, his husband and their bed. Fuck he had missed their California king. It had been a bitch to maneuver up the stairs and if one of their friends made one more, “Pivot!” joke, their motley moving crew would be down a man. He laughed at the memory and jogged up the stairs. 

Their door looked the same as it always had, evergreen oak with a gold peephole and the cream walls of the hallway. He kind of expected it to look different for reasons that made no sense. He knocked once to warn Jensen in case he was jumpy and unlocked the door. There was no need to worry about his husband being jumpy, rather he needed to worry about being jumped. 

The door had barely clicked shut and the locks flipped shut and his body was manhandled against the firm wood as Jensen plundered his mouth, hands grabbing at every piece of his husband’s body. OK so he was in one of those kinds of moods, Jared was definitely on board with that. 

He let his head plunk back against the door as Jensen continued his assault on his neck while impatiently pawing at Jared’s belt buckle. He whined in the back of his throat when Jensen latched onto his pulse point and sucked. There’d be a mark for sure. It only turned him on more. 

“B….babe….as much as I’m lov…..loving this,” he managed between gasps, “I think we’d both be a lot more comfortable and….Je-sus that feels good,” he whimpered when Jensen fisted his cock. “More comfortable and more fuckable….” he hissed that part out on a particularly delicious squeeze, “on the bed.” Jensen groaned his agreement into Jared’s neck. He pulled his hand out of his husband’s jeans, leaving his cock hanging obscenely out of the fly while his chest was heaving in air through his layers of flannel and canvas. 

Jensen stood back and assessed Jared as if he were a construction site that needed to be planned out; and, if Jared thought about it, that was precisely what Jensen was doing in a way. Planning his attack. Jared let his bangs fall into his eyes when he righted his neck from where it was still flush with the door and, only then, did he take in his husband’s appearance. 

Jensen was wearing his old UT Austin baseball shirt, that was about three sizes too small all these years later, and his gray sweatpants. Apparently, if the wet patch on his husband’s crotch was anything to go by, he wasn’t wearing underwear. His mouth dried up and he started to scramble towards the bedroom, dick still gloriously free. 

He noticed that their blinds were pulled tightly, a top sheet was lain on top of their bedding, and the lube was open and ready to be used. Jared really loved Jensen. 

Jared was lost in his awe of the scene in front of him that he almost jumped when Jensen came up behind him and nipped at his shoulder joint. Then that voice, that already fucked out voice….

“Turn around, lose the clothes, and fuck my face,” he added that last part, sinful as it already was, with a lick down his husband’s throat to his Adam’s apple. Then he stood back, lost his own clothes and crouched down to his knees, dick hanging full and leaking between his powerful thighs where they strained with the movement of sinking down. The image was enough to blow and Jared really didn’t want to come too soon. 

He stripped as quickly as he could and he was sure it was the least graceful dance but really? Jensen kneeling there, mouth open, tongue taunting, Jared couldn’t be blamed for the lack of coordination. 

Jared gently smoothed his hand through his husband’s hair before he cradled it at his nape, scratching his skull to make those pretty, pretty purring noises. Jared took himself in hand and painted his husband’s cheeks and forehead with precome before laying his fat head on the welcoming tongue that was splayed out for the taking. 

His husband fucking winked at him and Jared didn’t need any more invitation than that. He swung his hips back and dove forward all the way to the back of Jensen’s throat. Only Jared’s hand at his neck kept him from falling over with the force. He gagged, making the sloppiest noises and when Jared looked down he could see the trail of drool leaking out of the corners of that fucking gorgeous mouth. 

Jared pulled back and slammed forward again, this time his balls smacked against Jensen’s chin making a downright filthy slapping sound. Jared tightened his hand on Jensen’s neck and held his cock as deep as it could be, just pulsing there. The cords in his neck were bursting and the sweat was pouring from his brow. He swiped his bangs back with one hand and kept the other in place below as he just fucking rode his husband’s mouth. 

“Fuck yeah, baby. Fucking mouth built for this,” Jared groaned out in between choked off moans. “Love how you just let me…..fuck how…..let me fucking destroy…..ugh shit….your perfect fucking throat,” he couldn’t help the nonsensical stream of filth spilling from his throat any more than he could stop the thrusts plunging down his husband’s. 

Jared wanted to come with his husband drilling him into the next room, but fuck this was heaven. As if knowing Jared’s conflict, Jensen slapped his hand on Jared’s ass twice, “I’m out.” Jared reluctantly pulled back, inch by fucking inch and marveled at how sloppy his cock looked. Positively drenched in his husband’s throat and said husband on all fours gasping for air after being royally face fucked. 

Jensen finally caught his breath enough to rasp out, and seriously that word was made for exactly this tone of voice, “I am going to fucking plow you. Get your hot ass on the bed.” Jared didn’t need to be told twice. 

“How do you want me?” Jared asked, equally out of breath despite not being filled with cock….yet at least. 

“All fours. I’m going to fucking rail you so hard you won’t know where I end and your gaping hole start,” his husband growled as he heard the lube being squirted into his hands. Jared got into position and looked over his shoulder, letting his bangs obscure part of his eyes adding an innocent quality to his face. Making sure to arch his back oh so beautifully, “Mmmmm...not gaping baby,” Jared said, knowing exactly what kind of response he’d get. 

“Yet,” his husband whispered before biting his earlobe and shoving a lubed finger into his husband’s willing hole. 

Jared expected it but was still jolted forward with the intrusion. It wasn’t Jensen’s ring finger, it was his middle. The longest...searching for….shit...that. 

He keened as Jensen continued to finger his prostate directly, Jared’s lip had to be bleeding for how hard he was biting it. Jensen, ever perceptive, receded his finger and spit down at Jared’s hole….keeping it ready, willing, able, and wet. 

More lube soaked his husband’s finger and it returned, easier this time, not as invasive, but just as thorough. Stretching him just right. That’s when the second finger started to fuck in next to it.

Jensen kept scissoring him open as he lavished his husband’s shoulders and trap with licks and bites, occasionally grabbing at his throat and pulling his head back for a dirty kiss. He timed these kisses perfectly in sync to when he prodded his husband’s prostate so he could feel the clench around his finger at the same time the mouth went lax in his. 

By the time Jensen had three fingers moving in and out easily, Jared’s head was hanging between his shoulders. He was so grateful for the top sheet that was catching the sweat flying off of him as well as the steady stream of precome. If this foreplay was anything to go by, he was going to be extra grateful for the sheet because they’d be in no position to clean up. 

The sounds coming from his hole would have been embarrassing if Jensen’s narration wasn’t so fucking hot. 

“God damn baby. You should see your fucking hole, keeps clawing for something to get back in there, always need something buried in you, don’t you? Jesus fuck this is filthy. Let’s do four, can you take four?” Jensen asked as he inched his pinky alongside the three that were hammering inside. 

“Wan…..fuck, Jen….want your cock, ngh, nuh, not gonna last….shit…much longer,” Jared was proud of himself for getting that out. 

Jensen bit down on his husband’s shoulder and removed his fingers impersonally with one final spit to the hole while slicking himself up. Jared rested his head on his hands as he braced himself, he was exhausted and hadn’t even come yet; but Jesus when he did, it was going to be fucking explosive. 

Jensen, nonchalant as fuck, leaned forward and licked a trail of sweat from Jared’s temple, “You gonna just lay there? Ass propped up and prepped for cock? Hm? Answer me,” he roughly grabbed Jared’s jaw to make him face his husband’s eyes. He checked Jared’s usually multicolored, but now black, eyes to make sure they were still on the same page. When he saw nothing but raw pleasure and submission, Jensen smacked a hand to his flank and plunged his cock deep into the sloppy hole in front of him. 

“God, almost four fingers and you’re still a little tight, Jesus how? Goddamn,” Jensen groaned as his just kept his cock locked in deep. 

Jared was back on his arms, shaking, chest heaving, eyes rolling back in his head, as he just moaned like a whore. 

Jensen gathered his husband’s hair in one hand and locked the other around his shoulder joint and just fucking plowed the willing asshole. They sounded like two animals stampeding towards a cliff, both chasing the most precious release. 

Occasionally, Jensen would slap Jared’s side demanding that he take the reins. Jensen would slide his cock out to the head, rest his hands on the small of his own back and made Jared ride what he wanted. Watching the serpentine motions of his husband’s spine was intoxicating. 

Jensen wrapped an arm around Jared’s chest and yanked him up so they were flush, chest to back almost glued with sweat. 

“You better fucking hold on, baby,” Jensen growled out as he locked one hand around Jared’s dick and pistoned in and out of a ruined hole. He was surprised when his husband swatted the hand away from his dick. Then he was worried, “Jay?”

Jared was trembling in his arms, he could feel his heart about to beat out of his chest, “Wanna…...wanna come on your dick….just your dick….” 

Jensen moaned and clamped his eyes shut. He braced himself on his knees to gain more traction and fucked and fucked and fucked that hole.

Once.  
Twice.  
Three times.  
One more.

Jared came first, surprising himself as it seemed to sneak up on him. He sprayed so hard that thick ropes of come landed on the far side of the bed and when he blinked his eyes open, not realizing they had fallen shut, he was embarrassed to find a glob of come weighing his eyelashes down. Jensen took his release as a fucking green light and came seconds later. 

Jensen stayed buried deep inside until Jared could feel his husband’s come start to leak out around the cock still nestled inside of him. They both groaned with how filthy it was. Jensen leaned over, starting to get a bit oversensitive and caught Jared’s mouth in an uncoordinated kiss that was more tongue than finesse.

He slipped out slowly, fixated on the drops of come that were starting to work their way out of a beautifully gaping hole that was still spasming with aftershocks. 

He cleaned them up with the cloth he had prepared before Jared got home and snapped the top sheet out from underneath them. 

They both slept better than they had in weeks.


	16. Rats

Jensen’s phone woke them up the next morning. He had to disentangle himself from Jared’s limbs to stop the incessant ringing. 

“Yeah,” he answered--his usual chipper morning self. Jared smiled smugly, though, when he heard how wrecked his husband’s voice still was. 

“Oh, hey Tom,” Jared’s stomach plummeted when he heard who was on the line. He hadn’t had a chance to brief Jensen yet on this inopportune development. 

“No we didn’t really get a chance to talk much last night, we uh….well we just didn’t,” Jensen clearly wasn’t awake if he couldn’t come up with something, anything, convincing. Jared could hear Tom’s laughter from his side of the bed and he knew he didn’t mishear the, “Yeah it sounds like you got up to something last night.”

Jensen glared at Jared where he was smothering his face with a pillow to keep from audibly laughing. 

“All right. Wow. That’s….yeah an interesting development for sure. How’d you get queued up for a CRU case? Don’t you usually do petit crimes?” He paused while Tom answered what he could, at least over the phone.

“You were requested? I didn’t even know that was a thing through Legal Aid,” Jensen was kind of confused, but kind of impressed with how far the agency had developed. 

He scrubbed a weary hand down his face, the healing bandage about ready to fall off his hand, and then he did something so out of character that Jared physically sat up in bed and smacked his husband’s shoulder because finally, fucking finally, Jensen was doing something against the rules. Jared might have to note the date to make sure he remembered it forever as a kind of rebellious anniversary.

“You and Mike should come over. Actually, no. We’ll come to your place...prying eyes and whatnot over here. The four of us are going to compare notes to see what the missing piece is in all of this. It doesn’t go any further than us right now; once we establish some semblance of law and order to this mess, we’ll sign the Conflict of Interest papers and discuss with our reps. That OK with you? You gotta tell me if you’re uncomfortable with it, man,” Jensen said, worrying his lip between his teeth, a sure tell that he really wanted this meeting.

“Awesome, we’ll be there within the hour. Want us to bring anything?” Jensen laughed and replied, “Well it’s only 8 a.m., but I guess if we work til lunch, we could make it a liquid lunch. Something tells me we’re going to need it. And this meeting never happened anyway.”

Jared was already up and headed towards the shower because, hot at it had been last night to have his own come dripping down his face, the bit he didn’t catch with the rag was pretty nasty the morning after.

\--

It was the first time Jared and Jensen had been back to the Welling house since the invasion. Not that they were frequent visitors there, but given the reason for their previous visit, it felt different somehow. 

As they walked into the greeting space, they admired the freshly polished floor and what looked like a red carpet runner rolled up in the corner. Shit.

“Their party was last weekend wasn’t it? For the Oscars?”

Jared looked around before understanding dawned on him, too. They had totally forgotten. They were ready to fall on their proverbial swords when the other couple seemed to sense their distress. 

“Dude, you’ve had more than enough on your plate. Besides you wouldn’t have won anything because you told us your opinions on everything that was nominated this year,” Tom began. Jensen was nervous about the look in Mike’s eyes and was promptly proven right when he opened his mouth.

“Besides, sounds like Jensen has had to swallow quite the mouthful and it’s probably been really hard in him, I mean on him,” he said joining Jared in laughter as Jensen’s face turned bright red. 

“C’n I get a cup of tea from you assholes? As you both noticed, I have a bit of a sore throat this morning. Here’s your whiskey, I’ll show myself to the kitchen,” he said only a little bit pissy. The trio behind him cackling. Children.

\--

20 minutes later, they had all of their case files lain out on the dining room table. Tom had access to Joey’s, as they agreed to call him for consistency, appeals and notes and Jensen was starting to get nervous. Had he really convicted the wrong guy?

“Look, Jen. I almost always agree with your hunches and your investigations are always top notch,” Tom started. Mike chimed in with, “Especially when yours truly helped out,” sneaking a glance at his partner. “Right, I was getting to that. Anyway, Joey admitted to a whole slew of bad shit, but he’s always adamantly stated that he had nothing to do with the deals on the campuses. Clubs? Yes. Bars? Absolutely? The parks, alleys, and blatantly as pizza deliveries? Abso-fucking-lutely. Why’d he confess to all of those and deny the colleges? Something just doesn’t add up to me.”

Jensen had remembered feeling uneasy about that fact also. But everything else: DNA, MO, witnesses checked out.

“So how’d this end up with you anyway, you said you were requested?” Jared butted in, elbows on the table brushing against Jensen’s forearm.

Tom pulled out a note. “Yeah here’s the Action Center request. It came through from a Gino Inglioterra. At first I saw the last name and I was like, ‘Family member looking for an appeal, typical,’ but then I reviewed the file and there are some photographs that just don’t add up to fit Joey’s description.” Tom moved to grab the aforementioned photographs while Jared and Jensen were left shaken by that name: Gino. As in Gino’s. As in the guy who told them about the name in the first place. What fucking game was he playing at?

Tom came back to the table and Jared started right away, “OK in the interest of full disclosure,” he paused to share a meaningful look with Tom and Mike--Jensen was a given-- “Gino owns the restaurant Jen and I go to almost weekly. It’s over on 5th Ave. He’s also the one who told us that “Joey” was talking about the Owls Head murder an...,” Jensen cleared his throat and interrupted.

“Actually, he said there was a couple who were discussing it; he never said who it was. Just the name he overheard,” Jensen shared.

“Overheard or teased us with,” Jared said...anger growing at the betrayal of who they thought was a friend.

“Right, we knew about that after digging into Gino a little bit. We were skeptical about the last name so we got a subpoena to pull restaurant camera footage. These are from Saturday night, the night after the murder,” Tom fanned out pictures that showed the patrons at the restaurant on a Saturday night. Earlier than they had been there judging by the timestamps, if not the lack of crowd bustling around; Danneel wasn’t even at the hostess desk yet. But what stunned both Ackles boys into silence was that the couple was none other than Paul Engloterra and Jennifer Cortese.

In unison, they murmured out, “What the fuck,” to which Tom and Mike giggled like children about how cute it was when they spoke in sync. Jared flipped him off while Jensen started scribbling on his legal pad. Jared watched as the legal brain in Jensen took over.

“Hypothetical: Paul and Jennifer are staged as a couple, they have a mutual enemy...unknown...someone orders a hit on Jennifer but they catch Gianna Castiglione instead. Same description, dark at night, leaving from the same apartment, easy enough to confuse. Enemy realizes the mistake, calls Gino? How does Gino fit into this though?” Jensen was just thinking out loud and Jared had long ago learned to just let him go. The other men seemed to get that vibe also. Jensen’s voice, a little smoother thanks to the tea, continued.

“Gino must know Jennifer and Paul somehow; then again if Gino and Joey are related, then Gino and Paul must be related, right? We need to make that connection. Assuming under that connection, however, Gino called his...nephew? Cousin? And Paul and the happy Mrs. to be came to the restaurant and were stupid enough to talk about the hit? But why would Gino give us Joey’s name if he really believes Joey is innocent?”

“Maybe to get us to piece all this together because he knows who actually framed Joey and he can’t come right out and do anything about it for fear of being a rat?” Mike took a chance and interrupted. Luckily, Jensen must’ve already been thinking that. He looked at Jared and his file.

“Any chance you’ve got some Castiglione and/or Inglioterra mob information in there?” Jensen asked hopefully.

Jared was already flipping through the file as if lost in a memory. “I remember, years ago during the drug ring...we weren’t involved because it wasn’t our jurisdiction, but that asshole Denison was a sloppy cop and he left a file connecting the two on his desk. Wide open and plain sight. Rookie mistake. I never knew why he had it so I copied it. Here,” Jared handed it over.

Jensen reviewed it quickly. Understanding and a motive coming together.

“Gino’s birth name is Castiglione, he’s Jennifer’s uncle, by blood. He was a big fish in The Castle but seemed to disappear around the same time Gino’s opened up and he presumably changed his last name. It also looks like The Castle could easily be mistaken as the same syndicate as LP. Look at the similarities in their respective files. The religious symbolism alone is uncanny. Jen, didn’t you say that Joey was a devout guy?” Jared paused mid thought to ask his husband who was starting to tremble with the heavy emotion of guilt. He reached his hand under the table to squeeze his thigh in reassurance. Jensen’s voice wavered a bit but he answered nonetheless. “Yeah. A member at St. Joseph’s in the Village.” “Right.” A switch seemed to click in Mike’s brain as he started scrambling through some loose papers. “Lookit this, guys.” He handed over several photographs of Gino with, presumably Joey and Paul in their mid 20s at the St. Joseph’s Fair. “That would explain how they all know each other.” Jared concluded; mind already working out a plan. 

Mike continued to finger through his files and Tom was just listening with rapt attention. Finally it was Tom who spoke, “So….what if Joey isn’t the one who masterminded the ring; what if it was Paul and Gino finally grew a conscience about the whole thing?”

Jesus Christ. Jensen had been wrong. Joey was innocent. And there was a rat in the DA’s office, like he had said all those weeks ago during his and Jared’s game of, “What are you thinking?”

Fuck.


	17. Checkmate

It was only 3 p.m. when the Ackles walked back into their apartment with their game plan. Jared was going to the precinct to talk with Denison about the case that mapped out the connection between The Castle and the Inglioterras. 

Jensen needed to map out some things before he submitted an official internal investigation to the DA. They decided it was better to do that at home away from prying eyes. 

They both undressed and redressed in their respectively appropriate outfits: Jared in a tailored suit since he was going into the precinct in an official capacity; Jensen in loose sweatpants and one of Jared’s T-shirts. They both gaped at the other with undisguised lust thinking the other was positively edible; and, given the circumstances, that was really fucking inconvenient. 

Jared braved speaking first. Voice hoarse from a suddenly dry mouth. He cleared his throat first as if to hide just how his casual, messed up husband affected him. Judging by Jensen’s smirk, he was unsuccessful. “So, Imma head out,” he paused to clear his throat again, “I don’t know how long this’ll take. Um….you’re staying here right?” Jared asked as he worried his bottom lip a bit. Partially out of anxiety, and partially to keep his mouth otherwise occupied. Jensen’s eyes sparkled.

“Jeez, Jay. Here I was thinking it was my throat that got all fucked to hell last night. What seems to be the problem, babe?”

“Oh fuck you,” Jared laughed.

“No time, baby. Have fun at work and I’ll have fun here. Actually, since I’m home and already comfortable, maybe I’ll have some real fun,” Jensen winked not at all hiding what he meant as he cupped his dick through the gray of the sweatpants.

Jared made it over to him in two powerful strides before fucking devouring Jensen’s mouth in a dominant kiss. 

“There, that oughtta help your not so little problem.”

With that, both men were left with their growing erections and their tasks. At least one of them could do something about the former.

—

Jared stalked into the precinct, there was really no other word for his actions and approached the desk sergeant without hesitation. A man on a mission.

“Sarge, is Denison in? Need to talk to him ‘bout somethin’,” Jared drawled out lazily.

Sergeant Rodriguez internally cringed when she heard the accent because that meant that Jared was either really tired or really close to losing his composure...hopefully not both.

“Ackles, we were having such a nice, quiet afternoon here. Please don’t ruin it now,” she pleaded with him with puppy dog eyes that put his to shame. “He’s at his desk last I saw. Please...at least talk with him in the war room. You two are like two dogs with one bone on a good day and you’ve got your whole Texas thing out in full force so I know it’s not a good day.”

“Thanks, doll,” Jared winked to her. As he turned on his heel and made his way to Denison’s desk, she noticed that he didn’t bother correcting her about his disposition.

“There goes the peace and quiet,” she muttered to herself.

\--

“Denison, you have a minute?” Jared bellowed as he approached. He knew he was probably a bit louder than necessary but he felt entitled to some answers.

“For the Golden Boy? Of course, let me just clear my entire afternoon for you,” Denison sneered from where he was doing a crossword puzzle on his desk. Jared had enough.

“I just wanted to talk to you about the Castiglione and Inglioterra crime families. I think I remember you had some information about that when you first joined the 68,” Jared maintained unsettlingly cool eye contact with him throughout his little announcement. He only took a little bit of joy in how the other detective visibly paled and swallowed. OK, that was a little bit of a lie. He took a lot of joy in it.

“War room, now,” he grit out trying to avoid making a scene in front of the precinct he never quite settled into.

\--

“Eddie, at least do me the favor of remembering that I am a highly decorated detective so I ain’t stupid,” Jared said as he draped his suit jacket on the podium as he leaned against it predatorily. He picked that exact point in the room for the intimidation factor and if the way Edward Denison was pacing, it was working.

Jared continued without giving the other man a chance to chime in. “A few years ago when you joined this house, you seemed weird but I just chalked it up to new house, newish guy, nerves can be a bitch. But you never really warmed up to me and I’m a fucking delight,” he said glancing nonchalantly to the sea of cubicles outside the war room. The rest of the squad was doing a decent job of pretending not to try to pay attention; but, Jared was too good to fall for it.

“I saw a file on your desk back then that didn’t make any sense for a newly promoted detective to have; ‘specially since you were only a beat cop--no offense, we were all there--and there’s no way you should’ve had your hands on organized crime and felony drug charges,” he began. “So I made a copy of it and then admittedly forgot about it. Frankly, I just chalked it up to sloppy police work and, to be even more frank, I never saw anything out of your supposed police work to ever change that purview.” Jared could be a little bit bitchy sometimes.

“Whatever you think you know, you don’t, Ackles. A man’s allowed to have his secrets and past.”

“Sure he is. ‘Slong as it doesn’t interfere with the integrity of this department,” Jared answered back, vascular arms crossed over his chest.

Denison sat down and wiped a hand down his tired face. Jared had never really noticed the other man’s--or any other man’s--appearance before because, well, Jensen; but now that he looked, Denison seemed to have aged overnight. At least over the course of the last month.

“If you’re up front with me, maybe we can figure something out,” Jared sighed and pulled a chair around backwards before straddling it, leaning against the back of the chair. 

“I fucked up before I joined the Academy. Hung around the wrong crowd because I didn’t fit in with the trustafarian crowd. Started doing drugs, partying too hard, blacking out, forgetting nights...you know. The usual,” he started with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Actually, no. Jen and I moved here about six years ago but it was only ever...well work and each other,” Jared said matter of factly.

“Well ain’t you two just a match made in heaven...or wherever gays come from,” he sneered. Jared was out of his chair and had Denison pinned against a wall before he could catch his breath.

“Don’t. Ever. Question. That. Around. Me. Again,” he grit out between teeth that were more like fangs at that moment. “The homophobia is one thing I’ve learned to ignore because that’s on you—not me, nor my husband. When you’re talking about God, and Faith, and anything else I value like that, you’ll get a bullet for your troubles.”

“Jesus Christ, all right,” Denison said, apparently not getting it.

He earned a punch to the gut.

“Saying the Lord’s name in vain is a sin, too, asshole,” Jared was absolutely playing it up now...he just really wanted an excuse to hit the bastard. And Lord knows Jared screamed plenty of obscenities when Jensen was balls deep in him. Could you blame him?

“Fine, I get it. Chill. How is the husband, by the way?” OK, so maybe he still didn’t get it.

“We’re not talking about ADA Ackles; we’re talking about how you, ‘Fucked up before the Academy.’ Talk. I’m out of patience and I didn’t have much to begin with,” Jared pushed away from him and ran his hands through his shaggy hair.

“Unbeknownst to me, I somehow got caught in a drug turf war between The Castle and The Brits,” he muttered.

“How in the actual fuck do you get involved in something like that and 1. Not know about it; and 2. Still make NYPD?” Jared sneered.

“I’m getting there. I was in over my head in bad debts to try and pay off my habits and was borrowing between two guys not knowing they were rivals. One was Joey the Brit and the other was Gianni Castiglione.” He said that last name slowly.

“Gianni Castiglione….that’s really fucking similar to Gianna Castiglione.” Jared replied.

“Brother and sister duo. Fresh from California. Gianni got distracted by the big city lights and fell into bed with the wrong people, or person: Paolo Inglioterra,” Eddie recounted the details he had memorized.

“Paolo as in ADA Engloterra? He’s…”

“On your team? Yeah. Rumor has it he’s got a type too, man. You ever seen a picture of Joey? Damn, if your boy wasn’t just too fucking pretty, he’d have a long lost twin who missed out in the finishing school and the finer points that make the fairer Mr. Ackles quite so….perfect,” Denison grinned out that part with an oily sneer.

That time he got a fist to the jaw. “One more word about my husband and we’re going to have a serious issue. So what? You outed Paul and that didn’t go over well?” Jared asked.

Eddie laughed. “You could say that. I followed him to a bar in the Village one night trying to get something to hold over his head. Unfortunately that backfired in the most ironic way. There was this stripper there, man. You should’ve seen her...or should I say...him.”

Jared stopped from where he was pacing. “You mean to tell me….”

“Yep, got hopped up on too much crack and fell a little too deep into crack, if you catch what I’m saying. And doubly unfortunate is that Little Miss Cortese, who used to hang with the Inglioterra boys, snapped a picture and has been holding that over my head ever since.” Eddie finished his confession, of sorts, with an exaggerated breath.

“So you’ve, what? Been on Cortese, and indirectly Castiglione’s payroll since? Doing their bidding? How did you think that was going to go?”

“Well I can tell you I certainly didn’t expect Gianna to come out here for answers or hit up some potentially distant relative. That’s right, Detective, Jennifer Cortese is actually Jennifer Castiglione.” Eddie felt a bit victorious sharing that detail. 

“Are you a fucking idiot? Nevermind I know the answer to that already. Just like I knew Jennifer was part of The Castle from birth already.” Jared was stalking the room like a caged animal. His fists were clenching and unclenching. He was missing something but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Yeah yeah, you’re not a fan, I know. Anyway, you know what I expected to happen? I’d do The Castle’s ratwork for them; but the joke was that they had their own double agent on their side. Your restauranteur buddy? Gino? Best friends with The Brits. No one knew. Once the boys—Gianni and Paolo, that is—figured it out, it was like our own little Romeo and Juliet.

When Jennifer found out that not only was Paul gay, he was fucking a rival, she lost it. It was just good timing on her part that she saw me doing lines off that stripper’s ass. She cornered me afterward with the photo and the video she took. Told me that she knew about my debts and how we could send one of The Brits away.

To stay in Paul’s good graces, she decided Joey should be the one locked up that way Paul could continue stuffing his cock down his boyfriend’s throat. Joey never looked the right part for the Castle whereas Paulie had everything Gino could want in an heir. Cept for maybe the dick in his ass.

‘What’s the point in all that?’ You ask? Well....turns out Jennifer had previously been spurned by Joey who wouldn’t return her affections. Joey only ever saw her as an annoying little sibling, and a privileged one at that. A way to get into the 1% bubble she ran with. She can hold a grudge, I’ll tell ya.

Add into that: once Gianni overdosed, Paul went full vigilante against anything involving drugs. So everything he had, contacts, paraphernalia, you name it.....was planted on Joey for that ADA husband of yours to pore over. The timing of all this really could not have been planned out better.

By the way. Who do you think slipped that kid a copy of your house key? Gino asked me to and I owed him a big one.” He really was a dense son of a bitch.

“Are you trying to piss me off anymore than I already am, Eddie? What kid?” Jared grabbed the lapels of Denison’s jacket and shook him once in frustration.

Not missing a beat, he continued. “Diego something or other. Waiter at Gino’s and wannabe gangster. Followed Paul, and by proxy Gino, around like a lost puppy.”

“And why, pray tell, would you help them out?” Jared hissed, shaking with fury and betrayal.

“Who do you think erased my ‘bad deeds’ to allow me on the force? Gino was there that night, too, and conveniently on accident bumped into Jennifer. The only thing he never could make go away was the photographic evidence on that bitch’s phone. He’s got friends in high places, ya know.

Anyway, Jennifer played her part for The Castle playing both sides. Her Uncle Gino is her daddy’s brother, but no one knew that. Except me. I’m the one who pieced this whole fucking thing together. So to answer your question, Detective....

I’ll tell you what I didn’t expect to happen...absolutely didn’t expect Paul to figure it all out and try to kill his dear “fiancee” in the park once he caught on that she was a duplicitous snake. And I sure as shit didn’t count on him killing the wrong girl in the park,” Eddie said that last part in a defeated tone, which Jared couldn’t quite place. Why would he be apologetic now? Then he got his answer as Eddie removed a wire that was attached to his chest.

“By the way, Paul and Gino heard all of that. They knew it was a matter of time before you figured out you really couldn’t trust me. My debt with Gino is clean now that I cleared Joey’s name and the “Gay One”, as he so lovingly refers to Paul, was outed...literally and figuratively. More to the point, Paul knows you know he murdered poor little Gianna. Now. Where did you say that husband of yours was right now?”


	18. Smarter Than They Appear

Jensen, despite what he led his husband to believe, did not do anything other than work from the second Jared left the apartment. If Jared was working, the least he could do was the same. Besides, anticipation always helped things later on….not that they ever needed it. But they did have a gameplan and Jensen was a stickler for a gameplan. 

He was lost in thought when his personal phone vibrated at the same time someone knocked at the door. He looked at his watch and was surprised that Johnny’s had delivered his food early for once. Seamless was a blessing and a curse. He wandered to the door, not needing his wallet since the app stored his credit card--see aforementioned description as a blessing and a curse. He expected to see the usual delivery guy, a scrappy old-school Brooklyn guy. He was not expecting to see Paul in his hallway.

He tried to keep his nerves controlled...given everything they had learned recently, he was understandably cagey around the guy. “Um, hey Paul. You know, I don’t really do home visits, though I do work from home on occasion,” he said waving back to the table where he wished he had put away his files before getting up. Lazy.

“Oh, yeah. I saw that you were working from home today but I just came across something that couldn’t wait. I tried your cell, but it went to voicemail,” Paul said by way of explanation.

Jensen scratched at the back of his neck as he made to grab his phone, careful not to turn his back. “Yeah, sorry. Got pulled into kind of an ‘off-campus’ meeting this morning and we all decided a phones-off policy was best,” Jensen looked at the text from his husband as he realized Paul had invited himself into their apartment. He was now standing almost nose to nose with the guy while he held a text in his hand saying, “Paul killed GC, thought was JC, do not leave apartment.” Paul somehow knew what it said. 

“Damn. That detective folded faster than I thought he would. Almost couldn’t believe he was spilling everything to that muscle you married. Fortunately for me, he was wearing a wire as part of a deal he had with Gino. Gino gets off thinking he helped out the PD and I get outed as the perp you’ve been looking for, and well...outed,” Paul was pacing like a caged animal. They were one hundred percent moving after this whole thing was over.

“Outed? What the hell do you mean?” Jensen continued to play the part of victim as he connected the call with Jared so his husband knew what was going on.

“Oh, come on, Ackles. You haven’t seen me trip all over myself around you?” he reached in to caress Jensen’s jaw with one hand while he slapped the phone out of his other, effectively shattering the phone--and his connection to Jared. Jensen was quick, though and blocked the unwanted touch before shoving Paul back towards the foyer. If he could get Paul out of the apartment, he could grab his work phone from the other room where it was charging and call either his husband or 911. Unfortunately, Paul was a lot scrappier than he looked behind that primly cut suit and had Jensen’s arm twisted behind his back and face shoved against the wall.

“You and I are going out to dinner,” Paul said conversationally.

Wait, what?

“Gino has a special standing reservation for me in his back room. Think it’s time the three of us talked. Without the police.” Paul stood back leaving no room for argument as he pulled a gun out and flicked it impersonally towards Jensen. “And, remember, he has a dress code,” he added with a pointed look to the bedroom. 

Jensen made a point of slamming the door and making as much noise as he could in the hopes that someone heard and made a noise complaint at….7 p.m. in New York City.

He was once again reminded of another reason he hated living on the top floor--stairs aside--it was substantially more inconvenient when you were being held hostage and the service ticket on your bedroom fire escape was still open even though the super had been by a fucking month ago. It was a good thing that call didn’t show on their rent invoice. They were moving. 500 percent.

Fuck.

\--

Jared was losing it. Jensen had called only for him to hear two voices, one he didn’t recognize too well until Eddie chimed in, “Heya Paulie.” Somehow he had a bloody lip after that. 

After a brief, too brief, connection, he heard some ruffling and then a shattering before the phone went dead. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what that was. Though it helped when you had an accomplice in custody. What Denison wasn’t expecting was Jared to stalk towards the door before yanking it open and hollering across the precinct. “Imma need Morgan, someone from Organized Crime, and Murray in here immediately. Morgan so he knows Denison is a rat, Organized Crime because we’ve got some intel, and Murray so I don’t murder aforementioned rat,” he shouldered the door open so everyone could see Denison, pale, bloody, and shaky.

\--  
Jensen found himself in Gino’s “back room”, which he hadn’t been naive enough to think was an actual dining area. But now that he was there, he cursed at maybe a little bit of naivete having just found out that he was connected with the mob. He didn’t know if it was the anxiety of the situation, the fact that Paul threw a bag over his head, or that Paul was apparently taking the scenic fucking route to the restaurant. But the car ride was interminable. He made the mistake of opening his mouth to ask and the second a word slipped out, he received a solid punch to the lip. 

Gino came into the room with the waiter they had had a few weeks ago. Had it only been a few weeks? 

“What’s with the kid? I don’t know him so if you’re trying to use him as some kind of leverage to get me to talk, I got nothin’ for ya, G,” Jensen snarked out trying to will his false bravado into reality.

“I thought you’d want to meet the kid we hired to break into your place,” Gino said in a joking manner. Jensen went from willing his bravado into place to pissed off in seconds.

“They’re starting you young, huh? What’d you get out of it, other than an indirect death sentence either by way of one of these two thugs or my husband once he finds out you’re the one who invaded our privacy.” Jensen quirked an impatient eyebrow enjoying the way the kid was squirming.

“I just wanted to make it in the city. I heard working with The Castle or The Brits would be the way to get by,” Diego said shakily, which elicited a laugh out of Gino, where he stood behind him menacingly.

“These stories all sound the same don’t they? Paolo, that Detective Denison did the same thing years back, right? How’d that work out for him?”

Paul replied back in a nauseatingly smooth voice, “Judging by that little conversation he had with the husband, I’d say not so well. What the fuck, G? How could you sell me out like that?!” Finally, the rage was settling in for him.

“You’re kidding right? I saw what you had been doing for years, chasing ass--decidedly not female--and then the one you fall for is an Inglioterra? I thought it was a nice touch, by the way, to reinvent myself as a Brit, what do you think?” Gino asked with a wink to Jensen indicating that that part was for the ADA’s benefit.

“Jesus Christ I don’t care,” Jensen rolled his eyes, which earned him a surprising smack to the back of his head. Fuck, that hurt.

“Your husband doesn’t like using the Lord’s name in vain if his conversation just now was anything to go by,” Paul leaned in and whispered in his ear. Jensen took great pride in how quickly the rebuttal came from his mouth, whispering right back.

“I’ll tell ya what, Paulie; when you fuck his ass as deep as I do or deepthroat him like I don’t have a gag reflex, you’d be amazed at how many things you can get away with,” he added by licking his lower lip. He felt Paul twitch in his pants behind him, which shouldn’t have surprised him, but turned his stomach nonetheless.

Gino, not oblivious to that, pulled a gun out of his pants and shot his “nephew” right between the eyes. 

Then he turned and killed the kid. Just like that, the game changed.

Jensen almost got whiplash with how quickly the dynamic in the room changed. “The fuck did you do that for? How’s your precious Joey getting out of Rikers after you just killed the guy who actually did it?!”

Gino stumbled…”How do you know that?”

“Hey asshole, I’ve been an ADA in this town a long damn time and my husband’s been a cop just as long--if not longer if you count Texas. We had a plan when he went back to precinct. He’s not the only one who can wear a wire or sync up devices--amazing what TARU and IT can do. I heard the whole interrogation my husband had with your narc so I could cross reference things at home while Denison rambled off. Also means I was able to give my pals at the other involved precincts a heads up what was going on. Surprise,” Jensen smiled with a shit eating grin. Then, remembering how homophobic this guy was apparently, he continued on. “It’s a shame he’s such a good cop and got that guy to fold so quickly, he didn’t even give me a chance to beat one off to the memory of choking on his cock the other night. Seriously, you should have heard my voice earlier. Then again, that’s to be expected when you try to swallow a fucking Coke can, right?”

He would’ve laughed if the still smoking gun wasn’t fired at his own third eye.


	19. Moving Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I added a bit to the end of this chapter after an idea came to me. Thanks for being patient; it’s been a crazy week.

“Talk,” Morgan already had Denison in cuffs, the former detective’s badge and his gun locked in the Captain’s office. Detective Ackles had, dramatically, given his gun to his partner to remove from the room. Morgan knew that Ackles was only half kidding, but the half of him that wasn’t was a little scary; even he could admit that.

“Too bad Ackles was thinking with his wrong brain and didn’t let you in here originally. Too busy worrying about the fair haired beauty to think properly.” Denison had the nerve to still joke in light of the general disposition of the room.

Jared chose that moment to hand over his cell phone to one of the techs who had come in. “Do me a favor, download the recording to the 68’s database. I’ve already got a copy on my husband’s phone...and Cloud...since he heard the whole thing, too. You’re not the only one with tricks, Eddie. Your old pal, Mike at the 76, told me all about your MO. Guess it’s true what they say about old dogs and all. Morgan, you’ll have the same details I have in about 3 minutes,” he concluded with confidence before turning his attention back to their newest perp.

At least now Denison looked a little spooked. “I’m assuming Paul took Jensen to Gino’s for some kind of meeting. I’m also assuming that, since you’re wired up for him, you’ve been in contact with him. What’s the play here?”

Denison took in the room around him, not a friendly eye in the place. He debated asking for a lawyer, but with his luck, IAB would just swoop in that much sooner than they were inevitably going to. He was already sunk. Career? Over. Serious time behind bars? Almost guaranteed. Possible assassination by way of The Castle? A promise.

“Gino has been playing you boys since day fucking one. His little niece showed up in New York City years ago, that part is true. She never quite lost the idiot accent, but it made you fall for it. Or maybe it was the big brown eyes? Wait, no...you like the big green ones.” His head snapped back with the force of the punch and he was actually disappointed in himself that he didn’t even expect it. 

“Anyway, once Jennifer got caught up in the work hard, play hard lifestyle...and took a liking to Little Joey, Gino tried to interfere. He wanted to avoid an Inglioterra/Castiglione lover’s spat because it would inevitably lead to a full fledged mob war. 

Unfortunately for Gino, he was looking at the wrong Castiglione and Inglioterra. Once he traced the motley little crew back to the Village and the NYU party scene, that’s when he noticed something different about Paul. Paul was socially awkward, the lesser version of his brother, but Gianni came to town and that was it. That’s when Gino saw what was blossoming there. He wasn’t too thrilled about that. Most Catholics aren’t,” he said with a pointed look to the chain around Jared’s neck. 

Jared ignored the jibe and was busy playing with the ring on his left hand; trying to ground him and connect him with his husband, praying that nothing serious had befallen his other half. He knew he'd feel it if Jensen was taken from him; and his soul was still intact so Jensen's must be also. He sat in the uncomfortable city-issued chair, leg jumping in the need to get to Jensen's side. Meanwhile, while this jackass just listened to himself talk. It was as if Morgan read his mind, “You gonna get to anything we can use some time tonight? Or is your goal to suck all the oxygen out of the room and suffocate us all?”

“Sorry. Forgot that the pretty princess is in distress at the moment,” that time he braced for the punches. Plural. Murray pulled Ackles away from Denison and watched as his partner, more than 6 feet of fury, paced the room. Hands in his floppy hair; Denison had never seen him so rattled and it gave him a sick sense of accomplishment that he could reduce Big Tough Jared Padalecki-Ackles to this caged animal. He made a show of spitting out a glob of bloody spittle on the floor next to Morgan’s shoe before he continued. 

“Gino made sure that poor Gianni’s coke was laced with something that fateful night, when he had that tragic overdose. Predictably, Paul fell apart. Gino can probably tell you more about his master plan than I can. Maybe ADA Ackles is having better luck there. Paulie swore off drugs and everything to do with them. That’s when he had the plan to turn his whole drug operation over to his brother. Joey, by the way, never dabbled in anything other than pot. Thought you’d want to know that. 

Joey liked to party, but didn’t like the responsibility of dealing and tracking. That’s why he was so easy to set up. He didn’t know what to look for. Paul and Joey….and that Jennifer bitch? Inseparable. They knew each other better than anyone. Originally, Paul had hoped to pin the whole thing on Jennifer since he still felt some sense of loyalty to his brother. 

Unfortunately, that’s when I stumbled into the mess and she turned herself into the little Mafia Princess she always was destined to be. Even Gino got twisted around. See, he had a soft spot for her. Pretty sure he doesn't anymore, though I could be wrong. She convinced Paul that he needed to act penitent for his “sins” and they posed as the perfect little couple to try and cover up any wrongdoing that got Joey locked up on Rikers. 

It was just sheer dumb luck of timing that it was Ackles who pulled the case. When there were whispers that someone was tracking The Brits and The Castle, Joey found out who the ADA was. Little Jennifer was still in love with the poor son of a bitch so she was all too willing to relocate to Bay Ridge, if only on paper. Weird that you haven’t seen her around the building before the review was filed, huh? She knew what you boys looked like, that’s what happens when you’re the Chosen One at the CRU--you get the big bucks...and the big hits. It also helped that you boys don't know how to close your blinds on the rare occasion she was in town.

Speaking of, Gino probably has that husband of yours trussed up like a turkey with a gun to his head. I’m assuming Paul is dead by now and the kid who broke into your apartment, Diego by the way, is about to join him. He served his purpose: to spook you and Jensen.” 

He finally took a breath as if he hadn’t breathed easily in years, which in a way he hadn’t.

“Where. Is. He?” Jared bit out between breaths through his nose. Luckily, for Eddie, Jared was still on the other side of the room. And there were enough people in the room that he was fairly confident at least one would stop him from a full out charge. Fairly.

“Gino’s, of course; like you guessed. Backroom. Because as mafia cliche as it is, that’s actually where he used to do his business when he was a big fish full time. It’s a shame about Gianna; these California girls should’ve stayed out west. Not all of them are cut out for the East Coast. I’m including Jennifer in that little category, too, in case you couldn’t tell. I know Gino is pissed that Diego didn’t spike Miss Cortese nee Castiglione’s drink with more of that smack, that’s probably why Diego’s dead….” he made a show of looking at his watch….”right about now.”

“That’s…….that’s why she was so fucked up that night? She was mumbling something about a drug because, ‘I can drink you guys under the table!’ in that twisted voice of hers,” Chad said...it was one of the only things he had said since joining the room. His voice seemed to snap Jared out of whatever panic was clutching him.

“Wait...Diego...he was the waiter Jen and I had that night? You mean to tell me he’s been involved in this the whole fucking time?” Jared roared.

“Well….he was…” Eddie shrugged in finality.

“And the LP symbolism? What was that? Part of the game?” Now that Chad found his voice, he was putting it to use.

“I’ll admit, I thought that part was particularly genius. Threw you boys off long enough to figure out an escape plan for Joey. Anyone check in at Rikers today?” He asked with an evil smirk that sent chills down their spines. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chad asked. He was unintentionally mimicking Jared in posture with the arms firmly tied across his chest. 

“Thought I overheard something earlier about a riot out there. But I’m not a detective anymore so what do I know?” 

Jared was out the door despite orders to stop.

\--

The gun fired a blank. All that hit Jensen was an exhale of anxiety. 

He was pretty sure he hadn’t breathed in more than three minutes. He used to swim, he could hold his breath up to 3 minutes underwater. Jared always joked that that was his training for deepthroating. Jared usually got smacked whenever he said it. 

Jared.

Would Jensen ever see his husband again? He dared a flicker of hope when the door creaked open behind him. He dared not move but saw the familiar figure to his right. Except it wasn’t who he wanted to see.

Jennifer sauntered up to him with his pink index card in her stubby clutches and lisped out, close enough that the saliva speckled his cheek, “Thanks for all your help. I’ll make sure your husband gets a thank you, too.”

Then she turned and shot Gino in the leg. He hit the ground with a curse before she pulled over a folding chair and straddled it the same way Jared usually did: backwards. 

“I am so sick of men thinking they run the world. Aren’t you? Well, probably not since you are a man; but, you’re gay so you’re still not the elite 1%, right?” She asked tossing her hair over her shoulder. Jensen always wondered why women didn’t tie their hair back if it was always in the way. Hers especially, the way it just hung down both sides of her angular face like two curtains separated by a severe part. He then realized that he was focusing on the absolute wrong thing. 

“What in the fuck are you talking about, bitch?” Jensen hissed out. He couldn’t justify his concern over Gino who was panting as he looked over his wound. Maybe the emotions of the day, week, month were too fuzzy in the face of adrenaline. 

“It’s been a man’s world for too long. I’ve tried doing everything to get ahead in the world using my own skill set and at the end? I still had to resort to Daddy’s unethical games and Uncle Gino’s duplicitous dealings. Not that I’m complaining because now everything seemed to finally fall into place. Joey should be out any minute and he and I will finally be together like we’re supposed to be. The Castle and The Brits united as one. We’ll fucking own this city. You’ve obviously seen that changing our identities isn’t a problem. Then again? After this, maybe we’ll want a change of scenery. Maybe back to California and do some networking out there with some of the family’s old associates,” the flapping of her deflated lips was giving him motion sickness. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about, but Joey is locked up. On a fucking island. On Rikers fucking Island. He ain’t gettin’ nowhere, sweetheart. And I hate to break it to you, but neither of you once Jared and his boys get here,” Jensen spat out. “Gino? Man. I don’t even know what to tell you because I don’t even know where to start with you.”

Gino groaned after exerting himself tying an old cloth around his thigh to stifle the blood flow. “Jensen, I am sorry you and Jared got involved in this. It was shitty timing. But you did and you gotta know no one walks away from this and lives to talk about it. Although, I do gotta say, the fact that two less gays will be around this nabe makes it easier to swallow. And so help me if you make another comment about swallowing.” 

“What even was all of this about, man? You owe me that much at least.” Jensen pleaded with this man, who was considered such a trusted friend not too long ago. 

“You kids, you all come here with these dreams about what New York should be. You forget how it is, how it’s always been. You feminist bitches complaining that it’s a man’s world. You gays thinking you need a fucking parade down 5th Avenue. That’s not what we built New York to be. I thought Paulie there could be the next big thing, ya know? He had the drug skills and the businessman facade down to a science. Fooled you after all. Then turns out he likes choking on dick as much as you, kid. No fucking way. I had to get rid of his little boytoy, hoping that’d turn him into the ruthless leader I knew he could be. Instead? He folds. Like a deck of sparkly pink cards at one of your parades. Teams up with this snake and pins it all on Joey.” He turned hateful eyes to Jennifer. 

“And now you’re feigning loyalty to Joey? You think he’s gonna fall for that after everything you’ve done? You abandoned him when he got locked up and you think he’s going to crawl right back to your dried up cunt?” 

Gino saw her unscrew a bottle of bleach and walk towards him menacingly...or as menacingly as she could in heels she couldn’t walk in. She crouched in front of him with the gun under his chin and slowly poured the bleach into the rag on his wound. She took pleasure as it slowly, slowly, seeped into the bullet hole. 

“I told him everything you know. I stayed in touch with him this whole time. Told him about how you framed him, how it was your idea, how you cuddled up to his brother, how you planned to take both their spots. You say you couldn’t get anywhere on your own skill set? That’s because you don’t fucking have any.”

And those were his last words before the bullet broke his jaw.

Jensen couldn’t help the tears that slipped out of his eye and he paused to think on what they were really in reaction to.

—

Chad caught up to Jared surprisingly fast; he wasn’t the natural athlete his partner was. Jared was not expecting to be followed so quickly and in his shock he wound up to hit the culprit attached the hand around his bicep. When he saw that it was Chad, he dropped his arm and an apologetic look in his eyes.

“Look, Jay. I know you’re not firing on the correct cylinders right now. Shut up, let me finish,” he said when Jared opened his mouth to deny the claim.

“Jensen is smart. Hell, he’s smarter than both of us--you don’t make it to top ADA by accident,” Chad wasn’t sure if bringing his husband’s rank into the conversation was a good idea given Paul slipped through the cracks. “Thanks to the rat, we know he’s at Gino’s in the back room. We can only assume that Gino and Paulie are there with him. If I had to guess, I’d bet that the bitch is sitting in a hipster dive bar thinking she’s untouchable. We’re going to Gino’s. We don’t have any paperwork to justify a full fledged attack--no subpoena, no warrant, nothing. Just our intel. Morgan started the process to get the subpoena, but til then, it’s just us. You understand that? You and me.”

Jared’s mouth was set in a firm line and he averted his eyes trying not to let the emotions overwhelm him. He knew that if he locked eyes with his partner, the tears would threaten to spill over. Chad wouldn’t care, but Jared wanted to maintain some level of professionalism. Although Chad was correct when he told him that he wasn’t working as a detective just then. He was a husband. A scared husband.

“Let’s go,” he managed to croak out. He fingered his necklace once, crossing his thumb over each corner before pressing a kiss to his forefingers and back to his heart. 

\--

“So I think a little conversation is long overdue,” Jennifer spat out. And Jensen meant that quite literally.

“You know, you should come with a splash zone warning for the amount you salivate when you lisp. The lip injections were a good investment. They really help enunciate that NYU degree in speech or whatever the fuck you got,” Jensen gave it right back to her. Unfortunately, the but of the gun smashing his temple won that little argument.

“Do you even know how hard this has been? I’ve been playing double, hell TRIPLE, agent trying to get Joey out of the hole you put him in. I needed you and dreamboat to think I was some naive, new to the city airhead, I needed Gino to think he could trust me, and I needed Paul to think my loyalties transferred to him,” she started. Jensen was almost glad that his eyes were screwed shut in pain from the gun. Then he wouldn’t have to see her ratty hair flailing about as she no doubt tried to sound erudite and intimidating.

“I’ve been in this city for years. I went to NYU and got my acting degree and no one ever hired me. Do you know how talented I am? I mean, shit, look at this little operation I managed. I’m the most convincing bitch in this town and no one would give me a second glance!”

Jensen couldn’t stop the eyeroll that snuck out as he blinked his eyes open. “Jesus Christ. You are about the most nondescript broad in this city. You’ve got a lazy eye, the aforementioned destroyed lips, the dull hair….you don’t even have any figure to speak of to make you stand out. You’re good for nothing. Except for maybe a PSA in the dangers of plastic surgery, because honey…..” The slap that hit the open wound from the gun stung. But it didn’t feel as bad as the gun, so there was that. Jensen spit out the saliva that gathered in his mouth from the pain before continuing. “Seriously what even is your endgame right now? Do you even know?”

“Well as you can see, Paul is gone, Gino is gone, that just leaves you. You’re the smart one, what do you think is going to happen to you?” she sneered.

“Let me ask you a question. You’re, what? 5’? How in the actual fuck are you going to get rid of the bodies of three grown men?” 

“She’s got help,” a familiar voice said from the shadow. When had someone else even come in? Was he that out of it?

Jensen turned his head to place the voice and was met with betrayal when he saw Mike standing there.

“Surprise.”


	20. The Old Bait and Switch

Mike? What the…..”

“Fuck? Yeah, I wasn’t too sure about this little brainchild of Daffy’s over here; but it certainly has panned out better than expected,” Mike sneered from where he was standing next to Jennifer, who was still seated.

“We trusted you, you motherfucker. You let me stay at your place after the hospital! You helped Jared at your precinct! Were you and Tom ever even our friends or were we just a pawn in whatever sick game you’re playing?!” He wouldn’t admit to the spittle that came out as he yelled. Besides, his “splash zone” was justified.

“Tom actually really likes you guys. He never took it personally when you got the ADA job he interviewed for. Didn’t even mind when Jared got detective over me. He had read some of your essays and was super impressed with what you did in Texas. The both of you. As he saw it, ‘They were the better fit this time around. Our time will come.’ Loyal to a fault, that man of mine.”

“Apparently it didn’t rub off on you,” Jensen sneered.

Mike shrugged in feigned annoyance. “At first it did. Jared made top cop in his house around the same time I was eligible. He got the accolades and I got transferred. I was pissed. Rightly so. I’d been at the 68 years before that husband of yours! How is that fucking fair?! If that was it, I would’ve been fine. But coming off the heels of my soulmate getting overlooked for something he deserved after all his work in this fucking city? Abso-fucking-lutely not,” Mike was pacing at this point.

“So when did you hook up with the snake here?” Jensen asked, genuinely curious.

“She came to my precinct to bail out a friend of hers one night and saw Inglioterra’s name on a suspect board,” he shrugged again. It was annoying. “Told me she had some information on the skell so I talked with her in one of the interview rooms. For such a diminutive little duplicitous bitch, she knows some interesting things,” at this point he pulled over another chair and matched Jennifer’s stance.

Jensen shifted in his own chair testing the restraints on his wrists behind his back. That was annoying, too. 

“So this whole time?” Jensen asked, proud of how steady his voice was.

“Well since your apartment was broken into, at least.” 

“Yeah I thought it was convenient that you made it to the hospital so quickly. I figured the drugs just messed with my concept of time,” he rolled his neck trying to get the kinks out. His shoulder was locking up, too. All he wanted was for Jared to rub it out like he always did. Jared.

“So how does Jared fit into all this?”

“Well he’s a smart son of a bitch. We knew we’d have to be crafty to throw him off. Once I found out that Denison had a record and a grudge against the Chosen One, we put our brains together and planted all that LP symbolism.” that elicited a snort from Jensen.

“What brains? You seriously think you’re going to get away with any of this?” Jensen laughed humorlessly.

“Hey, Jenny. I’m not the one tied up right now, and I’m not the one going to the wrong restaurant.” Jensen was getting a migraine trying to follow all this.

“What the fuck are you talking about now?” His frustration was palpable in the room now. “And why the fuck are your clown lips snapped shut for once? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad for the reprieve from the saliva shower, but I thought you loved the sound of your own voice?” Jensen turned his attention to Jennifer. She stayed unsettlingly silent, black eyes blinking behind falsies.

“Good thing you’re pretty, Counselor. Gino’s is a successful restaurant. Did you really not know that there was another location?” She paused taking in delight at Jensen’s confusion. “We’re in Crown Heights, jackass. The husband is in Bay Ridge…..with Joey.”

Jensen didn’t have time to comprehend what Jennifer had said because he was suddenly facing down her gun. 

“This is for destroying Joey’s life, you son of a bitch.”

—

“Where the fuck is he?!” Jared roared as he was pacing the restaurant. “We tore this place apart and there’s no sign that he was ever here! There’s not even a fucking backroom. What the fucking fuck, Chad?!” Jared roared. The restaurant was empty of patrons, workers, and most importantly...his husband.

“Dude I’m standing here same as you. You think Denison gave us wrong intel? Pretty ballsy if he did given the brass in that room,” Chad said scrubbing a hand through his hair. When he looked up, Jared was already on his phone. 

“Put him on, now. I don’t care that IAB is with him. NOW!” Jared yelled at whomever the poor soul was on the other end of the phone. Chad cringed.

“I’m going to fucking strangle you, you piece of shit. So you’d better start talking. You’re already fucked for life, so I really don’t see the point in lying,” Jared tried for logic, which was a lost cause when working with the illogical. He put the phone on speaker that way Chad could vouch for whatever was said. Jared didn’t trust himself to be thinking like a detective.

A voice came out after some rustling, smooth and even. “Ackles? It’s Montgomery. We know what you know up til this point. He’s jerking us around as if he’s running a clock on the play, the fucker. Look, man. I’m sorry I gave you a hard ti…..”

“Stow your apology, I truly don’t give a shit about anything other than finding my husband and locking this whole fucking operation up. Permanently,” Jared growled out. Chad was just watching his partner, ready to catch him when he collapsed. 

“Right, sorry. Talk.”

An oily voice rang through the speaker. “How’s the restaurant, boys? It’s usually good to make a reservation so you know they can accommodate you,” Denison snaked out.

“You sent us to a decoy location you motherfucker!” It was Chad’s turn to chime in. And he was pissed.

“Hey agent? What time is it?” Denison obviously didn’t get the memo that no one was in a gaming mood.

“Why? Waiting on your union rep? It’s 10 p.m. asshole.”

“Just wanted to know when Ackles and Murray can expect their guest. 

“I’m so fucking sick of asking you this question, you dick. What are you talking about?!” Jared was unraveling.

“It’s 10 p.m. which means the ruse at Rikers worked, which means Joey should be there any minute, which means everything is going to plan,” came the reply.

“The fuck? You said Joey was innocent in all of this and we actually have the evidence to back it up now so he could get out legally. Why would he break free now?”

“Because a mutual friend told him that Ackles would be at Gino’s…..but didn’t specify which Gino’s….or which Ackles,” Jared could see the smile in his voice.

Chad held his phone out to Jared where there was a map of a Gino’s branch in Crown Heights. “Jensen,” he mouthed.

“Motherf……”

Then their phone call was cut short by the sound of doors slamming open and closed. 

And then the gunfire effectively drowned out Denison’s maniacal laughter.


	21. Here’s Joey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of short; but a few ideas came to me and I wanted to get it out sooner rather than later...especially since a new week starts tomorrow and I don’t have as much time during the week to update. Thanks for sticking with me!

What the fuck?!” Jared and Chad screamed in unison as their entire surroundings exploded in glass, liquor, and unidentifiable debris of the restaurant. They managed to duck down behind an overturned table and brace themselves enough to draw their weapons. They sat there, heaving breath in sync, as they made eye contact to try to hatch some plan. 

This was not at all what they were expecting to find when they got to Gino’s. The wrong fucking Gino’s and, 

“Seriously? Who fucking knew there were two motherfucking locations?!” Jared thought to himself, brain still spinning at how quickly everything had gone to hell. His phone was effectively destroyed after smashing against the cement and he just had to hope that his secondary phone didn’t suffer when he threw his body to the ground. He felt for his waist strap and felt the phone. He saw the faint light of the screen so he hoped against all hope that it was functional. 

“Yo, Ackles! A friend of your husband’s told me I could find you here. Why don’t you pop that pretty little head out from behind the table so I can look at the son of a bitch who stole the last three years of my life,” Joey enunciated his fit with a bullet to said table. Luckily it was solid furniture. 

Jared’s mind flashed quickly trying to figure out who this was. “Three years,” Jared pondered before putting it together that Joey Inglioterra had been in Rikers that long. But all was fine a few hours ago, wasn’t it?

“Jenny. Come on, man. Don’t you think you owe me a face to face?! I‘m affronted,” Joey continued in mock hurt. Then it clicked in Jared’s head what he had just said. Jensen. So Joey was led to the wrong location, too? Literally what was Denison playing at? He mouthed to his partner, “trust me”. And Chad nodded hesitantly, but somberly. 

Slowly, Jared started to rise to his full height. Before he made himself a visible target, not knowing much about this guy, he yelled back. 

“I am just as confused as you are, Joey. I’m Jensen’s husband. Jared. I’m a detective at the 68 here. I don’t know who told you my husband would be here—though I have my guesses. Looks like we were both led to the wrong place. OK? I’m coming out so you can see me. I’m putting my gun on the ground and then I’m standing up. You copy me?” Jared kept his voice calm and even despite the panicked heart rate. 

Chad stayed still….and silent.

Jared stood and came face to face with Joey. He looked…...sad. Broken. Beaten down. Malnourished. Shaky. Still in his Rikers-issued pants. Jared could easily overpower him but he needed more information. Jensen’s life depended on it. 

“How’d you get out, Joe?” 

“You all think you’re so much better than I am huh? Like I don’t know how to bend things to my will. How to hatch a plan!!!!! Fuck knows I can’t rely on anyone else goddamnit. Not my ‘uncle’, not my brother, certainly not that slut, Jennifer,” he spat out the name with the same malice Jared felt for her. 

“But you know who never doubted me! Who never let me down?!!! Your buddy…..” 

“Yeah yeah I know Denison. But look around, Joe. It’s just you and me—so Eddie sent you to the wrong place...same as he did me. He’s screwing with both of us, bud,” Jared tried for placating and empathetic. He noticed Joey had dropped his gun to his side. No doubt a side effect of exhaustion … physical and emotional. He surprised Jared by shaking with a slow and then increasingly maniacal laugh. 

“Eddie? That fucking moron. He was good to coordinate with and the LP stuff came in handy. But no. Your other friend. Mike? Ring a bell?” Joey had a disconnected look in his eyes now. He looked positively unhinged. 

“Mike? As in Mike Rosenbaum? How the fuck..”

“He came to visit me at Rikers a few times. How do you think thy loverboy of his in on my case? Fucking brilliant, too, the way you two dynamic duos partnered. Then he had all the information to get back at Ackles for ruining my life. Also helps that he has some friends in corrections. Got a ride straight outta there with no one the wiser,” he concluded.

Jared was speechless, which apparently indicated to Joey it was time to continue. 

“I will say that I’m disappointed it’s not the fairer Mr. Ackles here. But this may actually work to my advantage. What do you say we take a little field trip to Crown Heights. By now I’m assuming you know that’s where our little gang is at, right Detective? I saw your cruiser outside, which is perfect. Lights and sirens and no one will stop us. Let’s go, handsome,” Joey indicated to the door that was still half off its hinges where he slammed it open.

“Fine,” Jared said through gritted teeth. 

Anything to get him closer to Jen.

As they walked out, Chad was already dialing the squad. As soon as he heard the door slam shut, he connected the call. 

“Morgan. We have a hostage situation at Gino’s in Crown Heights. Denison gave us the wrong place. They’re holding ADA Ackles and Detective Ackles is on his way there with Giuseppe Inglioterra. Perp is armed and unstable. Also....Rosenbaum is a rat. Get word to his house and let IAB know we deserve a fucking Christmas dinner for all the work we just threw their way.”


	22. Can't Trust Anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to update. Coronavirus has kind of screwed everything up. But.....work closed for two weeks so I will be back to publishing with regularity. I'm also thinking of making this into a verse because I've got some ideas as to what happens to the boys next. Thoughts?

Joey surprised Jared by getting into the passenger seat of his cruiser, which he must have felt because he turned around with a smirk and said, “I know you’re going to take me to that restaurant because that’s where your dearly beloved is.” And fuck if he wasn’t correct on that. 

Jared gritted his teeth and locked up his posture before stomping towards the driver’s side, getting in, tossing the ignition, and taking off within a 23 second window. A low whistle from his passenger had him tensing behind the wheel in preparation for whatever snide comment was coming. He wasn’t disappointed. 

“Dayummmm Mr. Ackles, I underestimated just how much you loved that boy. Try not to kill us in traffic before we get to see those pretty green eyes again, capisce?” 

The fucker.

“So why don’t you fill me in on just how Mike got involved with you,” Jared pressed.

“Though I think hashing this out is counterproductive since you’ll no doubt grill Rosenbaum when we see him, I’ll give you the highlight reel, k?” Joey started as if he was doing Jared a favor instead of royally fucking up his life. Jared switched lanes and kept his ears open for whatever came out of the lowlife’s mouth.

“I guess I should start with how I met Jennifer. She was a privileged little bitch at NYU. Bottomless trust fund and zero moral guide to rein it in. When I found out she was mob royalty from the West Coast, I figured buddying up might not be a bad idea. Besides, that crowd? They could get in every fucking where, man. For a working class kid like me that was worth its fucking weight in gold. The hardcore partying wasn’t my style, gimme a few joints to chill out and I’m good. But damn the stuff they got into was wild. My brother was running in close circles and that was fortuitous for him on a million levels. He loved to party in their style, loved the candy, loved the company...preferably the company of boys. That’s what fucked him in the end. Well, I don’t know if he was the one being fucked...but metaphorically speaking, heh?” Joey laughed at his own joke seemingly happy to just listen to his own narrative. 

Jared was just trying to pick out the important parts. So far he had a slight timeline to set the background for this shitstorm. “And? Does any of this lead to Mike, Denison? Anyone remotely related to what I fucking asked about?”

“Shit, son. You are one cranky bitch. I’m getting there, Jesus. Anyway...Paul fell for Gianni. I never did know if they knew the other was from a rival family or if they just blew each other’s brains out their assholes too much to care. Speaking of, Uncle Gino caught Paulie blowing Gianni at a club one night. He was meeting an ‘old friend’ for drinks I guess. It was a weird location, though. Some dive in the Village? Not his typical haunt if you know him, he hates leaving Brooklyn. So Uncle Gino wasn’t too thrilled to see Paulie eating cock like it was fucking bacon wrapped filet mignon. Catholics, huh?” Joey looked at Jared and then his necklace pointedly.

“If you’re trying to bait me by making jokes about my faith then you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’ve got no patience for that bullshit,” Jared snapped at him briefly taking his eyes off the road to glare. Then he had a petty thought. “Besides, I can’t even get that mad when you’re talking about sucking cock because Jensen? Mouth made for stuffing...you should see, fuck you should hear how he takes me to his uvula. I had to Google that one time because I didn’t think it was possible to get that far back and STILL have room to grind.” Jared smirked in satisfaction when some of the color drained from Joey’s face.

“Shit, man. I didn’t need to know that. I ain’t homophobic at all, but I just don’t need that image in my head. Like, good for you, bro; but damn. TMI,” Joey made a show of shuddering in an overt display of dramatization.

“Husband’s fuckable face aside, Uncle Gino had made to get up and approach Paulie but he bumped into Jennifer, who was also there. Because of fucking course she was. Pretentious place for a pretentious bitch. You know she tried to change her name to Genevieve right?” Joey threw his head back in maniacal laughter and Jared actually had a moment where he wondered if this guy totally lost it while he was locked up. “Fake ass bitch with a fake ass name. Always knew there was something off about that broad. But hey, if leading her on is what kept me in their little circle, I was fine playing the game. So he bumps into Jennifer and she’s giggling like the idiot Valley Girl she still is at heart waving a phone in his face. Turns out she snapped a picture of Detective Denison snorting blow off a stripper’s decidedly male ass. She knew how Gino felt about gay men and she also knew that it was always good to have a guy owe her, and by proxy Gino. Gino had Denison come down to Bay Ridge the next day and laid out a plan about how he could get into the Academy and then NYPD. He pitched it as a way to, ‘Start over.’ Kind of like some Fresh Start program. Fuck if I know. We can ask him, I guess.”

Jared was trying to follow all of this but he was still trying to navigate the waters between betrayal and anxiety to have anything much of a clear head. He glanced down at the GPS and saw that they were still about 7 minutes away from Jensen, pending traffic, so he figured he’d be getting some more information that he’d have to sift through.

“What I didn’t know until after was that before Gino left the club, he dropped some tainted product in Gianni’s glass hoping to break Paulie. Gino still had this idea that the Castle could make a comeback on the East Coast and if Paulie’s world was shattered, he’d be even more vicious in his dealings. He looked the part of a businessman anyway. 

I also didn’t know that while I was getting stoned over the next few days, Paulie was conspiring with Jennifer about what to do about Gianni’s, and several other rich kids’ tragic overdoses. I was the slacker with nothing really tying me to any kind of community, unless you count the parish, so I was the easy target I guess. Which is why it’s fucking hilarious that, now, Jennifer is feigning concern over me, her long lost unrequited love. Fuck that bitch. I mean, not literally because I’m pretty sure her vag is as dried up as her nonexistent acting career.” 

Joey, again, did a dramatic shudder but at least this time Jared could kind of get behind it. Women didn’t do anything for him anyway, but the thought of that serpentine chick naked was almost enough to make him pull over to vomit. 

“So that’s how I ended up in prison, Denison ended up PD, and Jennifer ended up the little puppetmaster of this fucked up situation. Mike only came on the scene a few months ago. When little Jennifer came in to bail out her sidepiece--not that I can confirm that--Campbell, she saw my mugshot on his case board. Apparently they got word that my case was up for review and she filled him in on everything that happened that night. He made a call and got his partner hooked up as the Legal Aid attorney and then he came to visit me a few times. Nice guy,” Joey made a show of clutching his heart as if to say Mike was his hero.

“I mean I guess it makes sense that his precinct would be notified since that was where the drug ring was based out of. And I did think it was weird how Tom ended up roped into it all,” Jared said. He was mostly thinking out loud rather than conversing but it broke up the monotony of Joey’s diatribe so he’d take it. But then he realized that at least a minute had gone by without a response, smartass or otherwise, from his passenger. Jared looked over with a cocked eyebrow that would impress even Jensen. Fuck he missed his husband.

“Detective I’m surprised at you,” Joey clucked his tongue.

Jared sighed in annoyance but bit anyway. “OK, smart guy. What am I missing?” He threw the car in park in front of the restaurant and was around the passenger’s door within 12 seconds. He was fast to begin with, but the adrenaline and anger simmering underneath his skin was propelling him like crazy.

“You didn’t even ask who Uncle Gino was meeting with; that’s kind of important information, don’t you think?” His smirk was just begging to be punched.

Through clenched teeth Jared husked out, “Fine. Who the fuck was it?”

“Well Uncle Gino always knew it was important to keep…..certain kinds…….of people nearby. Have em owe ya one, right? Who else would be better than someone who could arrange for trials, convictions, conviction reviews, planting ‘CIs’, and paving the way for someone to join the police force?”

Realization dawned on Jared as he was overwhelmed with a wave of disbelief and disquietude. “You mean to tell me that D…..”

“DA Brown has been working with Gino since he was a sixth year ADA at KCDA? Yeah. That’s what I’m saying, handsome.”


	23. Reunited and It Feels.....Not Good

As they turned to make their way towards the restaurant, they were suddenly illuminated with swirls of red and blue as an unmistakable piercing sound cut through the evening air. Jared just smirked knowingly, not at all surprised that Chad was already in motion before they had left Bay Ridge. He looked over at his companion, whose colorless face picked up the reflection of the police lights.

Jared took that moment to slug Joey in the gut before trapping him with a headlock, which was not at all NYPD protocol, but fuck the consequences. He leaned in to Joey’s ear and took great pleasure in rasping out, “Do you really think I’d show up anywhere without backup, you goddamn son of a bitch?”

Chad chose that moment to saunter to the front of the small battalion waving his cell phone tauntingly. “My partner there is a smart guy, you didn’t even know that someone else was in there for your little powwow did ya?”

Joey didn’t get a chance to answer when a gunshot echoed from inside the building behind them.

“Jensen….” Jared whispered before taking off without a second glance behind him.

\--

Jensen wailed in agony as the bullet lodged itself in his shoulder. He heaved in breath that seemed unattainable around the pain and willed the tears in his eyes not to fall. “You goddamn motherfucking piece of absolute shit, Rosenbaum! I’m going to fucking destroy you and then let Jared have the leftovers, you traitorous bastard!” He was proud of himself for managing to gasp out such a heartfelt, ‘Fuck you.’ He hadn’t even seen Mike’s gun drawn from the side. Something about having another gun pointed right at his chest seemed to have distracted him. Go figure. 

“The fuck you do that for, Mike? I had it handled!!!” Jennifer hissed from where she jumped back in shock, her own gun dangling from her hand, evidence of her own surprise.

“Are you really as fucking stupid as you look, bitch? Can you not hear the sirens?! See the fucking lights through the window? Or are your fake ass lashes interfering in your sight. Cuz I gotta tell you...a speech impediment AND impaired eyesight? You’re on the fucking shortlist for a disability pension.”

She stalked towards Mike in more strides than she probably would’ve liked--short legs would do that--and slapped him. Jensen watched the exchange through bleary eyes; he was surprised that Mike just stood there and took the abuse.

“Look, bitch. Just because we have a deal does not mean you get to disrespect me. This is just as much my gig as it is yours. It’s bad enough you already offed G and Paulie. How the fuck was that part of the plan?! Brown’s deal started with Gino and then transferred to Paulie. Do you really think it extends to you?! You’d better fucking hope so. 

Because if Ackles here doesn’t get booted,” he paused to look at Jensen, “Unless we don’t just decide to kill ya, Jenny,” he winked. Then he returned his attention to Jennifer. 

“Brown said he’d oust Ackles and blacklist him from any agency in the country. Sorry, man. Then Tom gets sworn in! If these two jackasses are dead, what now?!” Mike roared so loudly that some spittle spewed from his mouth. Jensen laughed out loud--no doubt a side effect of the gunshot was insanity.

Jennifer turned her black eyes to him and sneered out, “What could you possibly find so funny right now? You just have another hole now for the husband to fuck.” Then she snapped her fingers thinking she was the most clever person in the city. “Oh that’s right. I almost forgot that you’re the one who fucks. But damn boy you can swallow cock like a champ,” she added with a wink before turning her eyes back to Mike.

“Don’t you think I know all of that, asshole? Why do you think I begged Paulie for a tour of the office? You really think I gave a shit about a bunch of uptight lawyers?! God you men are all stupid,” she huffed out and did a strange little semicircle move that Jensen couldn’t quite comprehend. 

Or maybe he was just losing it. He looked down at the bullet hole and lamented, for a totally new reason, that his hands were tied. He didn’t know much about first aid but he was pretty fucking sure that pressure would slow down the bleeding. His morose thoughts were interrupted by Jennifer continuing her little audition monologue.

“I told the moron I had to use the women’s room while he was grabbing something from his desk. Seriously what the fuck is with men and getting so flipped out when women need to use the bathroom. So spazzy. Idiot didn’t even realize how long I was gone. I met with Brown for a few minutes after calling him earlier in the week. Your deal is still good. Once we deal with Pretty over here.”

“Wait wait wait,” Jensen coughed out. “Brown? As in DA Brown? He’s with you? Since when? What the fuck?!” he trailed off in his barrage of questions when his breath gave out to the pain.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and sauntered, which was pretty fucking hard with no curve to her whatsoever, towards him. Eyes black, as always. She lifted the bottle of bleach that had made Gino’s last moments agonizing and he girt his jaw knowing what was to come.

Jared, if you’re out there, you’d better come in quick, babe. I didn’t even get the chance to tell you about Texas.

\--

As if Jared heard his silent plea, the doors were battered down and Jensen’s tears turned to joyful relief when he saw all 6’5” of his husband followed by at least a dozen uniforms from the 68. 

“Jay….”  
The last thing he heard was Jared yelling his name.

The last thing he saw was Jared tripping over his too long legs in his haste to hold him.

And the last thing he felt were his husband’s roughened hands cradling his face as his eyes slipped shut.

\--

Jared threw all logic out the window when he saw Jensen. Specifically when he saw that Jensen had been crying. And even moreso when he noticed the gaping wound in his shoulder. “At least it was his bad shoulder,” he thought stupidly to himself. “He already knows how to work around it. Or maybe he will finally get it fixed, the stubborn dick,” Jared roused himself out of his nonsensical thinking when his heart processed his sight. 

He heard his husband whisper his name in reverence and then his eyes drooped dangerously slowly closed. He raced across the room completely devoid of fear though he was the subject of two guns’ aims...he had backup and then some anyway. He knelt in front of Jensen and cradled his head in his hands, carding his husband’s short hair back from where it was starting to curl around his goddamn beautiful face. 

Jared pressed a reverential kiss to his forehead with his eyes lifted up as he said a silent prayer. When he pressed his forehead against Jensen’s, so familiar and so clammy, he glanced to his husband’s shoulder. He whipped his tie off and used it as a makeshift tourniquet and winced when Jensen moaned in his unconscious state. “I’m sorry, baby. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

He had a split moment of panic when he realized his back was turned to Mike, that treasonous bastard, and Jennifer, the treacherous bitch. Then he heard the clicks of way more guns than just two and the plunk of four knees hitting the ground. After he untied Jensen’s hands and arranged him in the most comfortable position that wasn’t in his arms, pillowed against his chest so their hearts could sync up like always, he rose to his full height and turned to face the situation.

“You’re going to start talking. Now. Morgan, a bus on its way?”

“Yeah, Ackles. About 4 minutes out,” Morgan bit out in his distinctive rasp.

“Hear that, asshole?” Jared asked as his aimed a kick to Mike’s stomach. “You got four minutes to say literally anything that helps me lock your ass up for the rest of your worthless, backstabbing life and then I’m climbing in an ambulance and leaving you to these guys who won’t hesitate to make it hurt before they destroy you.”

Mike had the wherewithal to show fear on his face and opened his mouth to speak. That’s when Jennifer decided to open her mouth, a mischievous mirth in her otherwise vacuous eyes.

“Actually, I’d like an attorney before I’m asked any questions. Mike, you think Tommy Boy would help a girl out? If I remember correctly, you still have those conflict of interest papers you suggested to Stretch over there.”

She fucking preened at the silence that followed her little announcement. 

“Let’s play, boys.”


	24. Healing and Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, guys!!
> 
> I am going to turn this into a verse and include some little interludes to clarify the holes that I know are in here. One day I'll go through this whole thing and tighten it up, but hopefully you've been able to follow along. I know I included a lot of twists so it was a lot to keep track of. Thank you for sticking with it.
> 
> The next (and final) chapter will act as a kind of denouement to this story and a transition to the sequel. And the boys will celebrate their reunion with some "playtime" to wrap it up...because that's what we're all here for anyway, isn't it ;)

Jared didn’t realize he was shaking until Morgan touched his arm and nodded his head towards Jensen. “The ambulance just pulled up. Go with your husband. We’ll take their statements and you come when you can,” he said in a low voice that was meant to be soothing but just added to the dramatic tension in the room. Jared washed his hand down his face and set his mouth in a firm, determined line. He locked eyes with a still smirking Jennifer and a rightly humbled Mike. It was as if hearing Tom’s name knocked some sense into Mike about just how manipulative this chick was.

“Mike, I’ll be seeing you real soon. Jennifer? You’d better hope the next time I see you, you’re wearing orange with a number stamped on your nonexistent chest,” he growled out before turning on his heel and swiftly returning to his husband’s side. 

The EMTs came in with a stretcher and he lifted Jensen up to it despite their insistence that he not interfere. His face must have told them to back off because they just situated the stretcher closer to the two men, one of whom looked so frail in his husband’s strong frame.

Once they were sat in the ambulance and Jensen was hooked up to an IV, Jared took his husband’s left hand in his and squeezed, sending a prayer to his God, whom had never let him down before. Jared knew He wouldn’t start now.

\--

Jensen blinked weary eyes open when he heard an irritating beeping noise. He was going to kill Jared, slowly, if he didn’t turn his alarm off. He made to sit up and was surprised when he felt restricted.

“Did that lanky fucker fall asleep on me or did he just drape himself around me like the overgrown cuddler that he is?” He looked over expecting to see Jared’s peaceful face resting on the pillow next to him. He was surprised when he met Jared’s sunflower eyes, but they were laden with exhaustion, weight, and concern.

“Babe? Everything OK?” Jensen almost didn’t recognize his voice. It was dry and scratchy, not unlike after he went down on Jared, but decidedly not a pleasant reminder of a good time. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Jared? Freaking me out here, sweetheart.” Jensen never called him sweetheart unless he was really worried. He knew another conversation was coming in which he’d need to drop that specific endearment but it seemed that was not on the table at the moment. 

“Wh….” Jared choked on his tongue a bit, “What do you remember?”

Slowly Jensen took in his surroundings and his mouth fell open in an O as realization dawned on him that he was in hospital. He closed his eyes and scanned his memory to try and catch up. Gino orchestrated this whole thing years ago. Jennifer was a sociopath--not shocking really. Mike was a traitor--that was a surprise. Paul was dead. Gino was dead. He was alive, albeit with a bullet wound in his shoulder. “Huh. That must be why my arm is immobilized,” he thought to himself. Then he realized that his husband had asked him a question and was starting to get that, “I’m timing this silence,” look on his handsome face.

“All of it. What’s the verdict on this shoulder?”

“Well, they finally went in and fixed your old injury since they were in there anyway. You’ll have to rest that arm for about six weeks and then PT. They said,” he gulped and Jensen could see his Adam’s apple bobbing in his muscular throat, “They said that if the bullet had been half an inch either way, it would’ve hit your artery. And,” he wiped his eyes where tears were forming, “With how long you were there without pressure on it, you would’ve….you would’ve bled out, baby.” 

Jensen let those words sink in. Despite living through this horror, he still felt his life flashing before his eyes. All the things he, they, hadn’t done or said. All the places they hadn’t gone or adventures they hadn’t laughed through. Soon, Jared wasn’t the only Ackles boy crying in that hospital room. Jensen struggled against where his husband was trying to keep him horizontal. They held each other as they cried softly, not ugly wracking sobs. Just breathing in each other and occasionally letting a teardrop wet the other’s brow.  
Jensen broke the emotion filled moment first. “Jared. I….I don’t think I can go back to the apartment. There’s just too much there now.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“Well about that. I kind of have something I want to talk about with you but I don’t know if now is the time.”

“Do you want to go back to Texas for a while? I may have already told the management office that we were breaking the lease a month early. They were fine with it, by the way,” Jared added as an afterthought but secretly hoping that would abate any concern from his husband. He was pleased to see a relieved look come across those goddamn perfect features.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” Jensen said as his eyes fluttered closed in a moment of rest.

Jared smirked boyishly and said, “I thought you loved me for my ass, Counselor.”

“Among other things, yeah,” Jensen chirped with an equally disarming smirk on his face.

A voice clearing itself audibly from the doorway captured their attention.

“Sorry to interrupt, boys,” Captain Morgan announced looking remorseful for disturbing them. “Rosenbaum is meeting with IAB now. Welling came down with the sole purpose of smacking the shit out of him if what I saw was anything to go by. Cortese is on the bus to Rikers with Inglioterra on the bus behind her. She’s got the blood of Paul and Gino on her hands and she’s being charged with accessory to murder on the Castiglione girl. Her parents want to speak with you by the way, Ackles,” he finished up before clarifying, “Er…...Detective Ackles, that is.”

“Believe it or not, Jeff, we could deduce which of us you meant,” Jared said in that endearing manner of his. “You gonna be OK for a few while I chat with Mr. and Mrs. Castiglione? I’d like to explain some of the murkier details to them. But only if you’re good,” Jared said as he carded his fingers through Jensen’s hair, eliciting those purrs that always melted his heart.

“I think I can manage a nap without an audience, kiddo,” Jensen said without missing a beat. 

Jared leaned down to capture Jensen’s plush lips in a passionate kiss despite their audience. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“I love you most,” came the reply. Predictable and comforting at the same time. 

\--

“Mr. Castiglione. Frank, I am so sorry--again--for your loss. I wish I could tell you that there was something substantial behind the reason your baby girl was killed. But,” he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It seems like she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and looked like the wrong person. The man who killed her believed her to be someone else. He’s dead now, so unfortunately there’s no way we can prosecute him. We can, however, go after his co-conspirator, and ironically, the real target.”

Frank stood there in stoic silence, his eyes kind. Jared didn’t quite know what to do next or what to say. Maria made up his mind, however, when she stepped forward and embraced him like a son. “God bless you, my child. You’ve been through hell also and you’re still concerned for a couple of old folks from out west. I hear that husband of yours is going to be just fine. I am so happy to hear that.” 

She stopped for a moment, cradling Jared’s face like Mama B always did--God he missed her. “Maybe we can go home for good?” he thought. He was shaken out of his daydream when Mrs. Castiglione continued. 

“We are flying home tomorrow with Gigi’s body so we can have her ceremony in her favorite park. We just wanted to see you and thank you for fighting so hard for her. And we wanted to share our prayers for the other Mr. Ackles,” she leaned up and kissed his cheeks before lovingly, maternally patting him on the cheek.”Take care of each other, mimmo.”

Overcome with surprised affection, Jared cleared his throat and replied, “Sure thing, Mama C,” smiling to himself at how perfectly she fit into that mother role when his own ‘A’ and ‘B’ were in Texas, none the wiser to the trauma their boys had lived through. That wasn’t going to be a fun phone call. 

\--

When he walked back into his husband’s hospital room, he leaned against the door jamb and just took in the sight of Jensen. He had grabbed Jared’s jacket from the chair and was using it as a makeshift pillow, no doubt relishing in his husband’s scent. God Jared loved him.

“I can hear you thinking and before you comment on the jacket thing; yes, it smells like you, and yes I curled up with it because it reminds me of home. Speaking of, I have something to tell you. I think, I think I want to….”

“Go home? To Texas? Me, too, baby. Me too.”


	25. The End and New Beginnings (NC17 Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys!!! This gets NC17 the last half of the chapter. Going to take a little break and then will start posting the sequel.

“So there’s one thing that doesn’t make sense to me,” Jensen started from where he was looking out the window of Jared’s cruiser. His arm was in a sling, though he fought tooth and nail to forgo it. That earned him a bitchface from his husband that he was quite proud of. “LP’s involvement. You’re telling me now that all of that was planted to throw you off. But wasn’t Joey connected to them somehow back in the day? That’s what facilitated my case, well that and the fact that DA Brown was involved since day fucking one. I still can’t believe that asshole. He earned the trust of so many people in this borough and then he throws it away?! Jesus this system is fucked.”

“That mean you’re giving up your dreams to be a DA one day?” Jared snorted as he pulled down the street that would take them to their DUMBO Airbnb for the next couple of weeks. They had decided that going home to Texas was the right thing for both of them. Jared could go right back to Austin PD maintaining his seniority despite his six year absence. Jensen had been very vague about his plans, but he knew it was something big. That was confirmed when Jensen made some sort of hiccuping sound.

“Right. I’ve got something pretty big to tell you, but before I do. Can you explain the LP thing?”

“Apparently Rosenbaum,” he had stopped calling him Mike as if to distance himself to the false friendship they had formed over the past several years, “worked with Denison to embellish Joey’s involvement with LP. Back in Joey’s party days, tame by comparison to Cortese’s crew, he brushed with LP dealers if his usuals were busy. Aside: I never knew that dealers would be ‘too busy’ to deal, but whatever.”

“So you mean to tell me that everything I was handed on the original case was embellished to be more incriminating than it actually was?”

“Seems like. Sorry, babe. They set you up from the beginning to fail. But the good news is that with Brown’s impeachment and his entire executive staff being investigated for their own ethic violations, you are reinstated with full accolades and endorsements. Hell I’d bet you could even run for interim DA right now and you’d be voted in by a landslide.” 

Jared meant that part as a joke because, though his husband’s ambitions were high, he knew he wasn’t ready for that yet. They had other things they wanted to do. Speaking of. “OK my turn. What is it that you’ve been skirting around? I’m not going to say ‘hiding from me’ because I know whatever it is is big and affects both of us so you needed to time to think with that freakishly large brain of yours.”

“I got an offer from DA Moore at TCDA. Travis County is going into an election year and she wants to retire. Spend more time with her family away from the cutthroat world of politics. The new guy who is favored to take over? He’s a fucking legend man. He started here in New York but wanted a change of scenery a few years ago and ended up as the First ADA after an unheard of promotion after only three years as an ADA. He’s in all likelihood going to be the next DA and they both want me as First ADA,” Jensen was worrying his bottom lip as he finished speaking. 

“Jen, I think that’s really fucking impressive. You started there as an ADA before you got recruited for KCDA. We made it in New York City for six fucking years, babe. For two Texas boys who, frankly were seriously out of their depth here, we landed on our feet and were really damn successful. The night everything went to shit? You were missing Texas. When did you get this offer?”

“The same week the Inglioterra conviction review came up. By the way, that is squashed now since he now has additional charges thrown onto his original sentence. Then, to quote you, ‘Everything went to shit,’ and it slipped my mind until now that we’ve had time to navigate this shitstorm and things kept piling up. I think I want to take it, babe. This could be my shot.”

Jared reached his arm across the console and squeeze his husband’s firm thigh, “Then it’s a good thing we made the plan to head home in a couple weeks. We’ve got this amazing place in DUMBO for the next two weeks while CSU and the moving crew dance around each other to fingerprint things before tossing it in the moving trucks. I called Mamas A and B to fill them in, by the way. So that conversation is over. Expect lots of A and B smothering when we get home. Jeff has a friend who’s a realtor and he got us a rental house in Westlake until we find something permanent for us.”

“Life is wild how it all unfolds for us. But one thing I never have to worry about is you. God Jared, you’re everything to me and this whole situation just made it that much more apparent to me. If, no when, I take this position, it won’t start til November so we’ve got some time to settle back in.”

“You know what else we have time for?” Jared asked.

“Don’t worry, as soon as we get settled into this place, we’re going to spend a day in bed,” Jensen grinned suggestively.

Jared threw his head back in a belly laugh. “I had no doubt about that, baby. But I was thinking more along the lines of that adoption application we started years ago before we ended up here in the city.”

“You still want that? We haven’t talked about it since we moved up here so I just assumed you moved on,” Jensen asked trepidatiously. 

“Having a family with you, Jen? That’s all I want, babe.”

“Well then I guess we’ve got some work to do once we get home,” Jensen reached around and held his husband’s hand where it was still resting on his own thigh.

“Now about that other thing? I’m thinking with your arm…..I should probably just ride you. Don’t want to overexert yourself….besides I know you have a thing for watching your cock pummel my hole while my own leaks and jumps across your stomach.”

Jensen groaned and thunked his head back against the headrest.

Jared laughed and pulled into their building’s garage.

“Come on, babe. Playtime.”

Jensen scrambled out of the car with surprising agility for someone just released from hospital.

\--

They walked into their temporary home with every intention to hop right into bed but they were awed into silence at the opulence before them.

Jared emitted a low whistle in appreciation for the apartment. Meanwhile Jensen snarked, “PD can finance this but the city hasn’t managed more than a 3% raise for us in six years?” 

“Jen….this place is incredible. Let’s just give thanks that we’re not holed up in a studio in Hoboken. Or worse. Stated Island.” He made a point to shudder at that, which triggered a giggle from his husband. Jensen would later deny any such indignity as a giggle. Tough guy that he was.

“Yeah yeah. Thanks be to God,” Jensen peered next to him knowing that Jared was fingering his necklace lost in his own thoughts. “I wonder if the bedroom is as nice as the living room, babe.” 

“Right. Yes. Onward,” Jared said as he started to undress and uncoordinatedly trotted to the sumptuous bedroom. A king sized bed that looked like a cloud. The white and pristine appearance didn’t stand a chance at staying that way, but it had been weeks and Jared needed to feel that his husband was alive.

Jensen came into the room and wrapped his arms behind his husband’s slim hips as he nosed along his nape. “I’ve got lube in my duffel, I’m a little limited in my mobility so here’s what you’re going to do,” he added a nip to Jared’s earlobe. 

“You’re going to help me get undressed and situated against that headboard and then you’re going to strip before getting on all fours in front of me. I’m going to lick you open, so you better back up so I am at level with your hole. Then? I’m giving you the lube and you’re going to finger yourself open, right in front of my face. And work it, baby. I want to be able to hear the lube melting in your asshole, I want to see that greedy hole gasping for more, and I want you to be fucking loud. He licked Jared’s neck as he reached down and around to grab his husband’s twitching cock. 

“You’re not going to touch your dick even though it’ll be that goddamn gorgeous purple color. I want to see the veins pulsing when you ride me. And baby? You’re going to ride me slowly. Legs spread, head thrown back, curving that spine like the only thing keeping you upright is my hard dick leaking inside your body. You got it?”

“G….God...yeah I can. I can do that, Jen. Can I kiss you as I undress you? Lavish all that freckled skin as I unwrap you? Please say I can, baby. Won’t be able to help myself,” Jared was practically whimpering. 

“Get to it,” Jensen smacked Jared’s ass before squeezing and kneading a handful. 

Jared turned around with impressive speed considering the monster in his pants letting itself be known. Jensen quirked an eyebrow when he looked down and made a show of lasciviously licking his lips. Jared attacked Jensen’s inviting lips with hunger, lips and teeth crashing against each other. Only animalistic grunts and groans filled the air around them. 

He undressed his husband like it was an artform and licked and nipped and sucked at every freckle that was unveiled. Finally, when Jensen stood in front of him: strong and firm, heaving and shaking, red and leaking, Jared helped him over to the bed. He propped him up with pillows supporting him. He could admit to himself that he was taking more care than necessary because the more secured Jensen was, the more comfortable he’d be to piston his powerful hips up into his channel. 

Jensen sat there with one knee bent and the other leg extended, cocky smirk in place as he languidly stroked himself in a teasing manner. He looked at Jared in all his naked, tanned, toned body and asked in a positively commanding tone, “How much more invitation do you need, kiddo?” 

Jared climbed onto the bed and backed himself up within inches of his husband’s face. He reached back to spread his firm cheeks and without pause, Jensen spit directly at the hole in front of him. There was a mouthful of saliva that had formed after watching his husband strip; the filthy, languorous drips of it just begging to be lapped back up. Jensen took over where Jared’s hands were holding himself and barked out, “All fours, Jay.”

Jensen’s tongue stabbed into Jared without finesse as the already slippery passage made it difficult to gain traction. But Jensen didn’t care. And judging by the guttural purring coming from Jared? He didn’t care either.

Jensen continued laving over the hole until he saw that Jared was itching to finger himself open, giving Jensen a show. He bit one cheek before slapping his flank and ordering, “Use those long fingers and impale yourself, bitch.” 

Jared didn’t need to be told twice. Once he was scissors and stretched to Jensen’s approval, he received a smack to the middle of his shoulderblades before being yanked back by his shoulder. A rough voice took on a dominant tone, “Turn around and get to work. Remember slow, hot, and loud.” 

His husband turned around and Jensen moaned when he saw the glorious color of Jared’s cock. He reached out to trace the veins that were bulging and Jared whimpered in sensitivity.

“Baby, please…..let me just hop on and then you can play as much as you want. J…..just….fuck….need you inside me.” Jensen grabbed his chin and tugged his flushed face towards him. His tongue pried Jared’s panting mouth open further before biting his lip and positioned his dick at Jared’s winking hole.

Inch by inch, Jared sank down until he felt Jensen’s strong hips firmly beneath his cheeks. That was as deep as Jensen could get and he clenched his hole before dragging himself up slowly, causing the sweetest kind of friction. 

Jared arched his back gloriously as he spread his thighs in obscenity as he leaned up on his feet, one of his arms braced on Jensen’s shin and the other looped around his still bent knee. He continued to arch up and down the pillar of flesh that was thrumming inside of him. 

Jensen reached down to feel himself disappearing inside his husband and used some of the lube that was being fucked out of the willing asshole to slip a finger alongside his girth. Jared whimpered and then shout out as his prostate was assaulted repeatedly while the fingers massaged the mouth clutching at his husband. 

They fucked and panted in silence; the only soundtrack was the slapping of skin, the smacks that Jensen applied to Jared’s flanks and ass, and the low curses and moans. 

They both raced towards their releases and as they got closer to—hopefully a coordinated—orgasm, their filters disappeared and the filth poured out. 

“Work that fucking hole baby, this is the only food it gets, right? Gotta make sure it’s well fed. Gotta fill you up. But only if you work that ass like I know you can. Ride baby, fucking destroy yourself,” Jensen groaned out trying to keep his eyes open and transfixed on the red ruin blossoming around his vicious thrusts. 

Jared fell forward against his husband’s chest as he turned his head to the side and whimpered as the different angle plunged Jensen deeper and deeper into his gut. He wrapped sweaty arms around Jensen’s firm chest and Jensen latched his arm around Jared’s lowed back as he readjusted his legs.

He bent both of his needs and shimmied his body a little bit under Jared. “Wrap those goddamn legs around my hips. Just fucking surrender,” Jensen sneered into Jared’s ear.

Once Jared was wrapped around every part of his husband, Jensen took the green light and fucked Jared with abandon. The bed whined, Jared howled, Jensen cursed. Jared moved his head and panted against Jensen’s throat. 

“M…..mmgon….mgonna blow, Jen. Gonna make a goddamn beautiful mess on yo…..your stomach. Gonna make a slick puddle of come between us. Mmmgonna fucking empty my balls and paint you. I….I….unnnhhh...n...now baby, now,” Jared broke off as his body locked up, hole included practically strangling Jensen’s still plunging cock. The noise coming out of Jared sounded like a wounded animal, guttural, strangled, throaty. It was the best sound Jensen had heard in a while. 

Jensen pushed the small of Jared’s back to trap his ass where it was as Jensen fucked through the loosening hole twice more before grinding his come deep into the bowels of his husband. 

They lay there tangled together coming down from their peaks of pleasure. Jensen pulled out and Jared didn’t even hiss. His fucked out state leaving very little coordination or coherence. 

Jensen kissed Jared’s sweaty forehead, brushing unruly bangs off his face. “You mean everything to me, baby.” 

Jared sighed in satiation. “Right back atcha, Counselor.” He rolled off of his husband and they linked hands.

“So Austin.” Jensen muttered into the bedroom.

“Whaddya think, babe? Austin DA or bust?”

“Well, if we can make it here, we can make it anywhere. That’s how it goes, right?” 

“You’re a dork. But you’re my dork.” He rolled over to face Jensen almost reverently studying his face. He started to trace Jensen’s beautiful features before continuing. “You rock my world, baby. No matter where we are. I love you endlessly.” 

Jensen kissed his husband’s nose and caressed his jawline. “I love you. Most.”


End file.
